#just lmk ☺️

[haydendemonlizard]

Bai He 💙💕

[thirteenis-myluckynumber]

EADA Ben Stone - outfits every episode 3/88

+bonus

@thatsjustdandy @mikelogan @adventurouswallflower @romula96

[the-bi-space-ace]

Crosshair & Echo have a heart-to-heart after the mission on Barton IV. Maybe things aren’t as different between them as Crosshair had feared.

—

I told you I was gonna write a fic just so they could hug 🩶

tag list: @ithillia

[coldshrugs]

i miss making gposes for other people...

[elaeomyxa]

Sims 4 would be such a good game if it worked and also was good

[runariya]

🥸🤫☠️ : JK

He wants something 🤫 as down payment before he lets u inside safe haven (a place where survivors go to seek refuge)

(yandere+smut+apocalypse) part of the prompt game pairing: metro inhabitant!Jungkook x survivor!female reader genre: apocalypse!AU, S2L, yandere-ish? warnings: survival after nuclear fallout, dark creatures, denied prostitution for safety, Jungkook is whipped from the start so that should suffice for yandere, foul language, smut, oral (f. receiving), squirting, JK comes in his pants, fluff, lmk if I forgot smth (still hate writing warnings) word count: 3.239 (upsiiii)

a/n: I couldn't rly make JK more yandere without it feeling a bit too dub-con, so I hope that's alright 💕 also it's heavily inspired by the trilogy '2033' by Dmitri Gluchowski (and to my Russian readers: Московское метро выглядит так круто на фотографиях в интернете, надеюсь, однажды смогу его пос��тить☺️)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You’ve been wandering for what feels like years, though it could be months, or perhaps just weeks; time’s an abstract notion now, in this world broken to pieces and baked under a nuclear sun. 

With each step you take, the weight of exhaustion and your protective suit presses harder against your bones, but you don’t let it stop you. The world may be a dying beast, choking on its own ash and poison, but you still walk through it, a lone ember that refuses to snuff itself out. The remnants of cities whisper ghost stories to you as you pass, their bones twisted metal and crumbling concrete, charred earth for flesh. The wind sometimes hisses through the ruins, carrying tales of survivors—others like you, fighting, scavenging, enduring—and sometimes it’s silent, as if even the air is holding its breath for fear of what’s out there in the deep silence of the aftermath.

The black creatures—those twisted silhouettes of the apocalypse—roam the earth like shadows unbound from their hosts, moving through the poisoned fog with an unnatural grace that chills your very marrow. They are things of nightmares, remnants of the old world, perhaps, mutated beyond recognition by the fallout or born anew from the hatred that festers in the radioactive soil. 

Their eyes, if they have any, are voids, consuming light and hope in equal measure, and their movements are barely perceptible until it’s too late, until they are upon you, whispering your end in a language only the dead would understand. They hunt relentlessly, not for sustenance, not for survival, but as if driven by some primal force deeper than instinct, a desire not just to kill but to erase, to wipe away the last remnants of humanity like dust from the pages of a forgotten book. 

And you—battered, exhausted, teetering on the edge of oblivion—cannot rest, not here, not ever, because even in your sleep they find you, crawling into your dreams with their inky tendrils, reminding you that peace is a luxury no longer afforded to the living outside of shelter.

Your gas mask, an old friend now, covers your face like a second skin at this point, the filters clogged and heavy with days of dust, radiation, and fumes. You’ve noticed the way it pulls in air with more effort now, as if it’s trying to remember how to breathe. 

You check the filter again. It’s nearly gone, the little red marker ticking closer to empty with every breath you take. You’ll have to find something new soon or you’ll suffocate on the very air that should sustain you.

This isn’t the first time you’ve tried to find shelter. In those early days, the optimism hadn’t yet drained from your veins and the desperation to belong somewhere, anywhere, had clouded your better judgment. 

There had been men—those ones with teeth like wolves, eyes like death, always leering, always demanding. You’ve had to pull your knife more than once to remind them that your body isn’t for sale, that safety shouldn’t cost that much. That death, perhaps, is a kinder alternative to what they would have asked of you. 

You can still hear their laughter sometimes, echoing in your skull—mocking, cruel. You had fled from them, from their dark gazes and cruel hands, from the taste of fear that licked at your throat when their eyes lingered too long on your body. Better the damnation from outside than their promises of protection.

But today… today you find yourself at the mouth of the metro. The entrance yawns wide like a secret, and the shadow of it draws you in, as though it’s reaching out for you. Your steps falter, but only for a moment—just long enough to recognise the hesitation in your chest, the uncertainty gnawing still on your mind. The thought flickers briefly across your consciousness—what if the people down there are like those others? What if all you find is more violence, more degradation, more proof that humanity has shed its last skin and become nothing more than base instincts and brutality?

But the mask is running low, and you can feel that desperation is creeping back into your bones, burrowing deep. You tighten your grip on the strap of your pack, pushing the fear down, burying it beneath a layer of resolve. You’ve come this far; you won’t turn back now.

The entrance is quiet—eerily so, as you push the tall hermetic door open and step inside, closing it quickly after. You glance around, eyes scanning the wreckage for signs of life. There’s nothing at first, just the silent exhalation of wind and the low hum of the distant, underground world. Then, movement.

You hear him before you see him—a soft shuffling of boots against stone, the faint click of a weapon being cocked. You freeze, instinctively tightening your grip on your knife as he steps into view.

Tall. Taller than most of the men you’ve encountered in these forsaken times. Muscles sculpted from necessity, sinew and strength coiled beneath his clothes like a waiting beast. He’s staring at you through the mask, gun raised, the barrel pointing at your chest. For a second, neither of you move. Then his eyes flicker downward, just for a moment, taking you in, assessing, like all the others. You brace yourself for what’s to come.

But it doesn’t come.

“Take it off,” he commands, voice low, barely more than a growl. His weapon doesn’t waver, and his expression is hidden behind a mask, eyes glinting through the cracked visor.

You hesitate. There’s a moment where you think of running, but there’s nowhere to go. There’s only the metro behind him, and the world ahead, both full of uncertainties, both as equally capable of destroying you. You suck in a breath, let it fill your lungs like a final goodbye to the stale air in the mask, and then you reach up to peel it away from your face, your skin sticking to the rubber for a moment before it falls loose.

The air tastes strange on your lips—metallic, sharp, almost alien after all this time behind the mask. You lift your eyes to his, half-expecting some sort of reaction, maybe disgust, maybe lust. But instead… there’s something different there, something you hadn’t anticipated. His gaze softens, though his grip on the weapon remains steady. He stares at you as though you’re something out of place in this hellscape, something fragile, a curiosity more than a threat. His gun lowers, just slightly, but his eyes don’t leave your face, as he too rids himself of his mask. 

He’s younger than you thought. Ink spills across his skin—tattoos that ripple over his arm, dark lines twisting around muscles. You catch a glimpse of two piercings through his lip when he tilts his head slightly, like he’s trying to figure you out, and then his lips curve, ever so slightly, not quite a smile but not quite hostility either.

“Shelter,” you say, your voice rough, the words like stones scraping against the back of your throat. You cough once, clearing the dust away. “I need shelter.”

He eyes you for a moment longer, his gaze wandering down your frame, but it’s not like before—not like the leering stares of the men who sought to take more than they were willing to give. This is different. There’s something almost reverent in the way he looks at you, as though the mere fact that you’re still standing here, after all this, after the end of the world, is enough to stir absolute disbelief in him.

“Alright,” he says, after a pause that seems to stretch out longer than it should. “We’ll see.”

He gestures with his head, motioning for you to follow him into the metro. You hesitate for only a heartbeat before stepping forward. The air inside is cooler, the shadows deeper in the few flickering candle lights, and for a moment, you think you can almost breathe easier.

“Wait here,” he says, nodding towards a bench half-buried in dust. “There’s a process. Need to fill out a form.”

You blink. A form? The absurdity of it almost makes you laugh—almost. But you’re too tired for laughter, too worn down by the world to even consider the possibility of joy. So, instead, you sit with an exhausted plop. You watch as he disappears for a moment, hear the soft scrape of papers being shuffled, and then he’s back, clipboard in hand, a pencil poised like a weapon in his grip.

He doesn’t sit down. Just stands there, towering over you, his presence impressive but not oppressive. You glance up at him, and there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel exposed—not in a dangerous way, but in a way that makes you feel seen for the first time in a long time. It’s unsettling.

He clears his throat, eyes flicking to the clipboard. “Name?”

You give it to him. He writes it down, slow and thoughtful.

“Age?”

Again, you’re honest, coughing right after. He writes again, his eyes lifting to your face between each question as if checking to see if you’re lying, or maybe just to remind himself that you’re real.

“Where did you come from?”

You answer, though the place you once called home feels distant, like something from a dream you can’t quite remember. His pen scratches the paper, and you almost lose yourself in the sound of it, that soft, repetitive scrape, the only noise in the otherwise still part of the metro.

“Any medical conditions? Injuries?”

You shake your head, your body numb to the aches and pains that have become part of you, the exhaustion that’s settled into your bones as permanent as the sorrow for the destroyed outside world.

He writes.

The questions continue. And all the while, his eyes keep returning to you, scanning your face as if he’s trying to commit every line, every shadow, to memory. You can feel his gaze lingering on your skin, not in a way that makes you want to shrink or hide, but in a way that makes you want to ask why he’s looking at you like that, why his lips keep twitching into something that almost resembles a smile, sometimes a pout. 

After what feels like an eternity, he finishes writing, his pen stilling against the paper. You think he’s done, that maybe this bizarre interaction will end and you’ll be allowed to rest, to sleep, to breathe for just a moment.

But then he clears his throat again. And this time, when he looks at you, there’s something different in his eyes. Something you can’t quite place.

“There’s one more thing,” he says, and the air between you feels too much like outside, chocking and not fit for you. 

You stiffen. You feel that old familiar dread curling up inside your chest again, clawing at your ribs. You’ve been at this stage before, the formality of it, the false promises of security, of kindness. The moment where it all comes crashing down, where the mask slips and you’re left standing there, alone and defenceless against the greed, the hunger that always lurks just beneath the surface of those too desperate to remember what it means to be human.

He sees the shift in you. You know he does. You see it in the way his brow furrows, the way he toys with his lip piercings as though he’s searching for the right words, something to say that won’t make you bolt for the hermetic door. He takes a breath, and for a moment, you think you might run, you think you might grab your mask and take your chances with the toxic air outside because anything—anything—might be better than this.

But then, he speaks.

“I—” His voice falters, and you see the muscles in his throat work as he swallows. His grip on the clipboard tightens, the knuckles going white. “I want to… I want to eat you out.”

The words hit you like a shockwave. You blink, stunned, and for a moment, you’re not sure you heard him correctly. Did he really just—? 

You stare at him, your mind racing, trying to process the absurdity of it, the strangeness, the unexpectedness.

He’s looking at you now, eyes wide, almost pleading. There’s no threat in his posture, no demand. Just… want. Raw and unfiltered. Like he’s asking for something he shouldn’t even be allowed to ask, but he can’t help himself. His breath is shallow, and you can see the way his hands tremble slightly, the tension in his body like he’s bracing for you to reject him, to walk away.

And maybe you should. Maybe you should get up, leave this place, leave him behind, leave all of this strangeness and vulnerability and run back into the wasteland where at least the dangers are known, where the air is poison but the intentions are clear. But instead, you sit there, frozen in place, your mind spinning, your heart pounding in your chest as you look at him.

He’s not like the others. That much you know.

He’s so painfully handsome, a rare sight in this broken world, and it’s been so long—too long—since you’ve felt the heat of another body, since before the fallout turned everything to pure survival. 

So, when the chance arises, when you catch the hunger in his dark eyes and feel the thrumming ache in your own bones, you seize it like a lifeline in the endless wasteland. Your fingers tremble as you pull the zip of your protective suit down, the rough fabric parting like a sigh, and you free your legs, peeling it off your lower half. You shift on the bench, boots still clinging to your feet as you raise them to rest beside you, and open yourself to him, your legs spread wide, exposing your cunt like a silent offering, need pulsing through your veins.

Jungkook barely hesitates. The clipboard thrown, clattering to the ground behind him, forgotten, his focus now laser-sharp on the sight before him, his eyes flickering wildly between your face and the growing wetness glistening between your thighs. He steps forward with a pull that feels almost sacred, falling heavily to his knees as if the ground beneath him is the only place he belongs. His warm, calloused hands trace their way up your bare legs, the roughness of his skin sparking something primal under your own.

He leans in close, close enough that you can feel his breath ghosting over your slick skin. He takes a deep breath, inhaling you, and the word falls from his lips like a prayer, “Fuck,” and then he’s there, tongue pressing into you with a hunger that’s suffocating, lapping at your cunt as if he’s desperate to prove himself worthy of it, as if he knows exactly how lucky he is to be granted this wish. 

A moan escapes your throat, unbidden, as his tongue forces its way into the tight heat of your hole, your hand reaching instinctively for his dark hair, fingers threading through the strands as you push your hips into his eager mouth. The sound that rumbles from deep within his chest vibrates against you, a groan of raw pleasure that seems to send waves of newfound pleasure coursing through your body, arousal dripping from you, coating his tongue.

“Taste so good,” he rasps between breaths, his voice rough and broken with want. “Fucking angel sent from heaven.” His gaze flicks upward, catching yours, his eyes wide with disbelief, adoration simmering beneath the surface despite the fact that you’re strangers, despite the fact that the world outside has crumbled to nothing.

You find yourself moving against him, riding the flat of his tongue, his fingers dancing over your clit in a rhythm that feels almost divine. His other hand grips your thigh, fingers pressing into your flesh with a kind of desperation, as though he’s terrified that if he lets go, you’ll disappear, that this will vanish like a dream.

“Yes,” you cry out, breathless and shaking, as he finds the perfect pace, the perfect pressure, his mouth and hands working together with an almost agonising precision. And neither of you can tear your eyes away from the other, locked in this frantic, desperate exchange of need and lust and something deeper you can’t yet name.

He gives you everything—every ounce of affection and euphoria you’ve been deprived of for months—and you can feel it in the way his own body trembles, the way his hips move mindlessly against nothing, rutting into the air as though he’s just as desperate to be filled with pleasure as you are.

“I’m close,” you gasp, your hand tightening in his hair, pulling him harder against you, urging him on, desperate for more, for him to push you over that edge.

And he listens, his tongue working with relentless skill, circling your clit with a pressure so precise it almost drives you mad, and then you feel it—your orgasm tearing through you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, shockwaves rippling through your body as you squirt onto his tongue, something you’ve never done before, the surprise of it lost in the haze of pleasure. Jungkook groans beneath you, greedily lapping up everything you give him, cleaning you with his mouth like he never wants to stop, his hips stuttering forward as he spills into his pants, caught in his own silent climax.

“Fuck…” he moans thickly and long, collapsing against your stomach as your legs tremble and fall to the floor, muscles too weak to hold them up any longer.

For a long moment, neither of you moves, the silence between you filled only by the sound of your ragged breathing, the disaster of the world momentarily forgotten. But eventually, he pulls himself together, straightening up with a sheepish grin, adjusting his pants which are now damp with his own release, his expression cringing just slightly.

You quickly dress again, pulling your suit back into place, feeling a flush of heat creeping into your cheeks. There’s an embarrassment there, sure, but not disgust—not even close. If anything, there’s a strange sense of satisfaction, of relief, and you catch yourself hoping this won’t be the last time you see him, that he isn’t bored now that his hunger has been sated.

But as you reach for your pack, Jungkook’s voice breaks through the quiet, and he gestures for you to follow him deeper into the metro, his arm draping casually around your shoulders as if he can’t quite bring himself to stop touching you. “I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he says, a grin spreading across his face, his eyes bright with something that looks almost like joy—something you haven’t seen in anyone since the fallout. “You can stay with me if you want.”

There’s a pause, your heart skipping a beat at his offer, and you hesitate only for a second before whispering, “I’d like to stay with you, if that’s okay.”

He beams down at you, stars shining in his dark eyes like you haven’t seen in months, and he takes the opportunity to press a gentle kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Good,” he says softly. “I’d like that too.”

PART 2

[leossmoonn]

do u think you could write something for mikey humping the bed while eating out the reader ☺️

18+ under the cut - includes: fem anatomy

not edited so lmk if i made mistakes lol

just thinking about giving you head makes mike hard. thinking about how you respond to his actions, how wet and needy you get for him. he reminisces about your pussy gushing around his fingers as he perfectly hits that spot. he daydreams about how loud you can get if you’re alone while he sucks on clit. sometimes his thoughts of you gets so bad, he needs to excuse himself at work and relieve himself in the bathroom or a closet.

but today he held off. he wanted to get off while eating you out. so when you got home and abby was at vanessa’s, mike practically grabbed you and ran with you to the bedroom. now you’re sprawled out on his bed, chest heaving up and down. one of your hands tugging at his hair and the other hand gripping the sheets next to you. your thighs are enclosed on his face and you’re always afraid you’ll suffocate him, but he has one hand on your thigh, keeping it close, causing the scruff of his facial hair to burn on your skin as he moves his head.

from the moment he pushed his fingers into you and felt how wet you were, he’d be searching for a release. his cock throbs at every little gasp you make. pre cum spurts and wets his briefs as you grab his hair, bucking your hips up and pushing his face further into you. the way you moan his name as his tongue flicks your clit make him moan into your skin.

mike looks up at you, his cock twitching in his underwear. you just look so perfect with your head tilted up, eyes screwed shut and lips parted. there’s a certain glow you get when he eats you out. he can’t help but admire you. without really thinking about it, he starts to rut his hips against his mattress. it’s like his body has a mind of its own, but he doesn’t stop.

it doesn’t take him long to come. he focuses on the sound of your wetness moving around his fingers as he pumps inside of you. your juices are soon seeping out of your folds, dripping along the side of his hand and wetting the bed. you begin to move your hips along his face, essentially riding him as you begin to get close. your moans become erratic and you feel like you can barely breathe.

“mike, don’t stop, don’t stop!” you push him on further. “i’m close. fuck, mike. i’m gonna come.”

his name tumbling out your mouth is the last straw for him. he tries to keep silent and keep focused on pleasuring you, wanting to give you the best experience up until you start to push him away and tell him it’s too much. but if anything, him moaning and groaning makes it all the better for you.

you’ve been feeling the bed move since he’s started. hearing him pant and whimper made you throb around his fingers. butterflies erupt in your stomach as you realize what he was doing. all of it ultimately brings you closer to your release. you like to think that he’s not only eating you out because you like it, but because he loves it so much and it brings him just as much pleasure as it brings you.

your thighs squeeze around his ears one last time and soon you’re pushing him away as it becomes too painful for you to stand anymore stimulation. mike slowly raises his head, the bottom of his face glistening with you. you look down at his waist, seeing the tip of his dick peeking out. there’s cum on the bed and along his stomach.

“s-sorry,” he says, a little embarrassed. he always tried to save himself for fucking you, but he just couldn’t wait this time. you don’t hold it against him. you smile and take him by the hand, wrapping your hand around the nape of his neck. “i thought it was pretty hot,” you whisper into his ear.

he can’t help but blush. “well, everything about you is hot, so i couldn’t help it.”

you grin and kiss his cheek. “maybe next time you eat me out, i can help you at the same time.”

he gulps and nods, eyes widening at the idea. “i’d like that a lot.”

[itneverendshere]

hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!

i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂

got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c

paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k

The party was a mistake. You knew it the moment you walked in, the thumping music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.

But somehow, you’d caved, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.

It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.

This was supposed to be fun?

“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”

Right. Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room. There were people everywhere—laughing, dancing, chattering loudly in clumps—and the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.

This was definitely a mistake.

So, you did what you always did in these situations: you found a place to hide. After walking through the drunk college students, you eventually ended up on quiet nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study. Blessedly, it was empty. With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.

Time slipped by as you read, the noise of the party changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word. He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”

You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled hair and a loose, easy grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.

Rafe Cameron.

Oh, God. You knew him—well, of him, at least. He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.

Until now.

Then his face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, somehow managing to make even that look effortless.

“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”

Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”

Your cheeks burned. Was he seriously calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.

“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those idiots out there. Too many people.”

You almost laughed. Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls practically draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”

“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out like he owned the place.

“See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his gaze roaming over your face “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.

You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”

“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”

You shrugged, feeling awkward. “My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment, he looked almost sober. “Yeah, same.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class. “Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”

You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”

“So, what’s that book about?”

You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”

“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”

“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”

“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.

“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that almost looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”

Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk. This didn’t mean anything. He probably wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.

But then, his eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair. Within seconds, he was snoring. You sat there, stunned.

What the hell had just happened?

Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter. You were just getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.

You glanced up, expecting one of your friends. But it wasn’t.

It was Rafe.

“Hey, friend,” he said casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.

You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair like this was completely normal. “Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”

Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”

Did he just give you a nickname?

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”

“I—” You stared at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”

“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”

“Good.” He flashed you a grin, all cocky charm. “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”

You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”

“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”

And for some reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.

“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.

But Rafe just leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”

The next few classes were…weird, to say the least. Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing. Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured smirk.

You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look as if daring you to acknowledge him first.

“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.

“Hey, princess,” he replied, voice low and teasing.

You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.

He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.

The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.

“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in slightly so his arm brushed against yours.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”

“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”

“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.

You snapped your mouth shut, trying to ignore the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, shifting just a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you. It was infuriating. And yet, when you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.

“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.

“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”

Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”

But Rafe just smirked, his gaze drifting lazily up and down your face before flicking back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit. 

“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”

You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention was like a physical thing—intense and all-consuming. It made you uneasy. 

Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, tuning out the heat of Rafe’s gaze. Professor Callahan was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“Mr. Cameron.”

The entire class fell silent.

You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look. “I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”

A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t even blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile. “Sorry, Professor. Just got a little distracted.”

Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.

The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”

Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”

Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?” he whispered, leaning closer.

You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”

“Rafe, I swear—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream. How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?

You hated every second of it.

“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”

“What?” He leaned in again, eyes bright with mischief. “You want me to go back to ignoring you?”

“Stop staring.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that, princess.”

Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”

He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”

Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.

As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly. The room buzzed with students shuffling out, but you kept your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.

You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Heading to lunch?” he asked, all casual charm, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.

“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt, but the way he looked at you—with that infuriatingly lazy grin—told you he could see right through you.

“Cool. I’m starving.” He said it like it was an invitation, like he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic. People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, curious and disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.

“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.

“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”

You gawked at him. “What?”

But Rafe just flashed you that cocky, confident grin. “Relax. It’s just lunch.”

Just lunch, he said, like this wasn’t completely absurd.

You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already steering you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle. 

Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly. You hadn’t even sat down yet, and they still managed to look up as one, their expressions morphing from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.

“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.

Emily was the first to recover. “What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing some kind of glitch in the matrix.

“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”

“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.

“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the most interesting girl on campus.”

Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could practically see their brains short-circuiting. Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.

“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.

But he just smirked, his gaze sliding over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?”

You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”

“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”

“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare. But that only seemed to amuse him more.

“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”

“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”

“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, like she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”

“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”

He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused. “What can I say? I like the company.”

“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.

Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”

Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? That Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?

“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”

“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"

“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”

“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, clearly skeptical.

“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”

Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird. You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. And yet, here he was, acting like sitting with you at lunch was the most natural thing in the world.

“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”

Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”

“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”

You stared at him, “I—yes?”

“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Now, what do you want?”

“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange like it was some sort of bizarre performance. “Um, a sandwich?”

“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, his smile smug. “Be right back.”

And then, to your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.

“What,” Max said slowly, “the hell just happened?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.

Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—thank God—but he didn’t exactly tone down his usual cocky self either. By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends just enough to leave them confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to move on to his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment. But of course, he wasn’t known for playing by the rules.

You learned that the hard way two days later.

It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. The library was your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and blissfully free of distractions. At least, until Rafe sauntered in. You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes. The library was busy, students murmuring as they worked, the rustle of pages and the faint clack of keyboards filling the air. You were hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it—

You stiffened, glancing up cautiously, and there he was.

He leaned against the bookshelf a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you with a lazy, assessing look. He didn’t move, just watched you, his lips quirking in that infuriating smirk when your eyes met.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously. No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.

“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.

“Since when do you study in the library?”

“Since now,” he said easily, pushing off the bookshelf and strolling over to your table. He pulled out the chair across from you, dropping into it like he had every right to be there. “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“Not today, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”

“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You are… I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”

Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”

What was he even talking about? This was insane. He didn’t just hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived. And yet, here he was, sitting across from you in the library like this was normal.

“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”

You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. This was absurd. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.

“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”

Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim, huh?”

“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”

“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.

“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. At least it felt that way to you.

“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugged, a strange, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”

“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting. “Cute?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. Like, you actually care.”

“I—I do care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”

What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that, like he actually meant it?

Before you could even begin to untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.

“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”

Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”

The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”

“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”

You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”

But he didn’t even glance at you. He just kept staring down the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”

“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”

“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re just sitting here, being—being weird.”

“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”

You froze, your mouth going dry. “Protective?”

“Yeah.” His eyes were dark, intense, locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”

After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.

So when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Because somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.

“Come on, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus. The music was already blaring, the heavy bass vibrating through your body. People were packed in the main room, laughing, talking, drinking, the buzz of chatter filling the air.

“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.

“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”

“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.

“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

You gave her a withering stare. “Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. After a few minutes you managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall. Maybe if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.

You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the now-familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you. Sure enough, when you glanced up, there he was.

Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away, his eyes locked on you with that lazy focus that made your heart stutter. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you like you were the only person in the room.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else. “Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

Rafe’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “Would it be so bad if I was?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. “It would be very bad.”

He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few long strides until he was standing directly in front of you, his presence overwhelming.

You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.

“Actually, I was thinking we could, I don’t know, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you with a faux-innocent smile.

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”

“Yes,” you insisted, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”

Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“My deal,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “is that I like you.”

No. No, no, no.

That couldn’t be right. People didn't just like you. They tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you. Not like that. Not in the way he was implying. You felt panic rising in your chest, like a wave that was too big to stop. You couldn’t stop it.

“You’re lying,” you said shakily, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”

Rafe’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching. “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You swallowed hard, your chest aching. No, this couldn’t be happening. This didn’t make sense.

“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.

His eyes narrowed, “No?”

“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.

“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”

You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.

“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”

Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective. “Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”

Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”

“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”

“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.

Rafe frowned. “Do what?”

“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”

Maybe you’d misread him. Maybe he didn’t actually mean any of what he said. He was probably just bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.

“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”

You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”

Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”

You frowned. It was impossible to shake the nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you. That this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.

“You’re just messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step back to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”

“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”

Rafe stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You really think I’m just messing around?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, trying to read his face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity, that same focus, like you were the only person who mattered.

Your chest tightened, panic grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. People didn’t just… like you. They didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you. There had to be some ulterior motive.

“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m some joke to you and your friends?”

“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t been honest about anything. You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”

“You think I’m lying? 

You moved your head again, harder this time. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”

He took a slow, poising breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "What doesn't make sense to you?" 

"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you actually care. Like you see me. People don’t just do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.

It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to believe him. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, to always look for the catch, because there always was one.

Always.

Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern. "Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"

You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest. "It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."

He shook his head slowly. "That’s not how I see you."

You opened your mouth to argue, to say something—anything—to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come. But Rafe didn’t give you the chance. 

"You think I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?" 

You wanted to pull away, to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.

"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I’m not bored. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."

You weren’t used to this—this kind of sincerity. It felt too real. And part of you still wanted to push it away, to reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

For a long, breathless moment, the two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading into the background. Your mind was still processing everything, but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you feel—just for a second—like maybe you could trust this.

You shook your head, "I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, your voice uncertain. "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."

Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath, like he was trying to figure out how to make you believe him. "I get that," he said quietly. "And I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about this."

You wanted to believe him. More than anything, you wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.

You hesitated, your throat tight. "I don’t know if I can."

He didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you. Instead, he just nodded slowly.

"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."

And with that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. He didn’t try to force anything, didn’t press for more. Instead, he just gave you a small, almost hopeful smile and turned, disappearing back into the crowd.

And as you stood there, your heart still pummeling into your ribs, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.

[sunflowerhae]

GG! (Good Game!) 👾🌀👾 (L.DH)

Summary: Famous YouTuber and Streamer y/n just moved in next door to scholastic loser haechan! No sweat for him! No big deal! Not like he has her picture above his computer! Not like he owns her merch that he stayed up all night to get! Not like he cried when she started playing his favorite video game! Not like he’s completely and utterly obsessed with her and all his friends know it!

Oh wait…Major deal.

Genre: SMAU (with occasional written parts) , loser college student!Haechan x streamer fem! Reader, somewhat strangers to ???, fluff, angst, mostly just haechan being obsessed with reader (you’re welcome delulu fans!)

Starring: All members of NCT DREAM, all members of AESPA, might have some occasional other artists pop in & out!

Warnings: profanity, sexual themes and language, mentions of obsessive behavior, y’all are NAWT going to like y/n sorry, more to come 😫☺️‼️

Playlist: punch, NCT 127 // about you, The 1975 // the adults are talking, The Strokes // disco, Surf Curse // from the ritz to the rubble, Arctic Monkeys // spy?, WHOKILLEDXIX // mass anasthesia, Mediavolo

Notice: all depictions of artists are fictional and no way represent who these artists are in real life. Any similarities are simply coincidence. All pictures are taken randomly from Pinterest. Anything you would like to see removed, please message me PRIVATELY and it will be discussed.

Notes: yay! I’m so excited for yall to read this UGH. I’ve been wanting to get back into the swing of writing recently, and I’ve been super obsessed with SMAU’s and thought I’d try it out. Lmk what u think! I love a boy obsessed w me so it felt only right to make this. Enjoy! 🌀👾💥

Status: Ongoing..

Want to be added to the taglist? Send me a message, or comment under the masterlist!👻

P R O F I L E S

The Flops™️ | extra |

Bad Girls Club | extra |

Intro

Ch. 1 - the worlds tiniest violin

Ch. 2 - that dog in u

Ch. 3 - MISANDRIST

Ch. 4 - I need a gun

Ch. 5 - manifesting 🫶

Ch. 6 - wattpad fanfiction (written)

Ch. 7 - Lala land

Ch. 8 - check engine light

Ch. 9 - chat is this real (Bonus)

Ch. 10 - The Friendzone™️

Ch. 11 - lil dude

Ch. 12 - #virgin

Ch. 13- Renselle 4 life

Ch. 14 - suicide not postponed!

Ch. 15 - don’t HMU ❌

Ch. 16 - u broke him 💀

Ch. 17 - FTCU by Nicki Minaj (written)

Ch. 18 - lover boy

Ch. 19 - 12 baddies 1 Porsche

Ch. 20 - idiot

Ch. 21 - FUCKING DEAN?

Ch. 22 - TINY LITTLE HICCUP

Ch. 23 - The Big One (written)

Ch. 24 - the twilight soundtrack

Ch. 25 - #thankyouy/n

Ch. 26 - ur girl is whack

Ch. 27 - Stockholm syndrome maybe?

Ch. 28 - ur grounded.

Ch. 29 - pause.

Ch. 30 - Restraining Order

Ch. 31 - I’m fine.

Ch. 32 - all hands on deck

Ch. 33 -

Ch. 34 -

Ch. 35 -

Ch. 36 -

Ch. 37 -

more to come… 💭

🤖 Plot questions 🤖

Y/n and Haechan’s ages

☆ Main Masterlist ☆

[rebelssvy]

obsessed part two

bokuto x reader

(afab. this is the most comfortable i write in. i try my best to make it as gender neutral as possible and not give any description of the reader. lmk how i can do betterrrrrr)

- authors note: you guys really liked part one. so abt to write a SINFUL part two ☺️☺️☺️

part one -link here!

LABELS: smut omg smut. i’ve never written anything smut so don’t judge pls 😩😩contains, making out, oral sex, sex.

walking to school the next day was a pain. bokutos mind was filled with the guilt of what had happened last night.

he jerked off to the girl in his class, who he still has yet to talk to.

ashamed was an understatement. he was embarrassed and felt inhumane. it was even worse because the problem still hadn’t gone away. he still thought of you in the worst ways. he couldn’t help himself.

closing the distance between him and his class room, his eyes narrowed in on you. the guilt was overwhelming. but you looked so cute in your uniform.

entering the classroom he groaned to himself. sitting down at his assigned desk, putting his hands over his face to try to hide his frustration.

he just liked you so much that it was truly embarrassing. he was bokuto koutarou! one of the top aces in high school volleyball. no girl should have his attention like this.

i am not a man, he thought to himself, hands still covering his face.

“ahem…” he looked up at the person trying to get his attention.

to his absolute shock, you were standing right infront of his desk.

“hi…” you said to him waiting for a response…. the response never came as bokuto just looked up at you mouth agape.

“i didn’t know you were so shy!haha” you try playing off to make it less awkward. his silence seemed to be maybe a message for you to just walk away. and yet you stayed begging for his presence.

“well i’m yn, and i didn’t know if you noticed but we have a partner project in this class…. and we were paired up yesterday…. and before i could figure out a plan with you, you walked out of class before i could talk to you yesterday.” you felt yourself ramble on for what seemed like far to long. his silence was draining.

from what you heard from most people, your schools ace was a huge standout. most calling him extroverted, crazy and annoying.

but right now he sat infront of you saying not a word.

finally he spoke up “oh..” he said. that’s literally all he said.

you stayed for a little longer, watching his face grow into a friendly smile.

“it’s nice to meet you yn! i’m so sorry i didn’t even realize we had an assignment together!! HAHA well don’t worry we can get it figured out. also sorry about yesterday i just rushed off to practice without a second thought” bokutos voice boomed throughout the class room.

you let out a sigh of relief. maybe he was just waking up still? but he sure does seem awake now..

“we can only work on the assignment out side of the school hours…. if your comfortable with it you can come over to my house tonight and we can work on it.” you say smiling down at him.

bokutos prayers have been answered. everything he has ever worked for is being rewarded back to him now.

“yes.!” bokuto replied without hesitation. smile still beaming up at her.

“here’s my number, text me after this class gets out.” you say to him. stealing his phone and saving your contact in his phone. you were a little forward. bokuto was practically gushing.

with that you walked back to your desk and started talking with your friends.

bokuto was so happy he could scream.

the day went on, after you two had agreed on a set time for him to arrive at your house he was counting down the minutes.

he would have to come over after he practiced, meaning he would also have to go home to shower before hand.

it gave you more time to get ready before he made it to your house.

secretly, you had been honing a crush on bokuto for awhile now. when your teacher announced that you two would be in a group together you were thrilled. but when you looked over to bokuto, he seemed… upset.

his face was hard to read. it was a mix of tired, guilt, and anger. you chose to not introduce yourself to him until class was out, not wanting to make a fool of yourself. but before you could he had already left.

that’s why you were so nervous. he was so big, not just tall. that man was beefy. in all the right ways. and you couldn’t even tell if he liked you at all.

of course you would glance at him time to time in class, even showing up to some of his games in previous years. you noticed him.

analyzing yourself in your mirror. checking the time ever so often.

you had taken a shower, got out of the shower and did all your duties to look the best you could. sporting yourself in a way you were most confident.

also going to the measure of cleaning your room. everything had to be perfect.

before you new it your doorbell rang. you rushed to the door, opening to a freshly washed bokuto.

he had on grey sweats and a black hoodie. his hair was still a little damp from his shower, so it wasn’t spiked up in its usual manner. his bangs clung to his forehead.

“heeeLLO” he said to you voice getting a little louder as his word continued.

“hi” you said to him while still looking him up and down. it was a little obvious you were checking him out.

you quickly let him in and gave him a tour of your home. making a mental note to leave your bedroom for last. making a b- line for your kitchen you offered him somthing to drink.

his presence alone was enough. he was just soo huge. you felt his gaze after every corner you took.

“uh yes water is fine.” he said, way more calm.

you got him a glass and sat on your counter top. he was infront of you leaning his back on your cabinet.

as he drank he held a comfortable eye contact with you.

“how was practice?” you spoke up.

he reached forward and put his glass next to you, then leaned back to his formal position.

“i did way better then i did yesterday i can say that much.” he said with a chuckle. his voice was low. deep.

“what happened yesterday?” you asked.

he seemed a little taken back from your question. but it was only a second of that expression that was followed with a smile.

“oh i just didn’t do my best. my teammates say i get in my own head sometimes but even my worst is not that bad soo” he said with a low chuckle again. his grin never really left his face.

he was confident in himself that was forsure. you thought you should atleast see where you stand with him. gathering up all the confidence you had to flirt with him just a tinyyy bit.

“oh so you must be gooood.” you say leaning forward a little, still perched on your counter top. you made sure you arch your back a little, even though he couldn’t see it from where he was sitting. you applied the action anyways.

bokutos ears perked up a little. he sure did love flattery.

“i mean, yeah. i’m pretty good.” he said non chalantly. leaning forward a little more as well.

“tell me bokuto, how good are you?” you asked. leaning just as much as you could without falling off the counter top.

“oh i’m pretty good. but i can’t tell you how good i am… it’s something you have to experience yourself.” he said, smug. grin still on his face.

as he spoke he had stopped leaning against your counter top.

he got closer to you, your heart beat picked up. he then picked up his hand, reaching out.

just as you thought he was going to touch you, he picked up his glass beside you. blushing your thigh in the action.

he picked up his glass and finished the rest of his water with a gulp.

smug bastard. you thought to yourself.

you then got back onto your feet and started walking out of the kitchen. bokuto taking that as his note to follow behind you.

you silently led him to your room. anticipating whatever came next.

as you waked bokuto stared. he stared at your ass, your hips, your waist. anything he could look at he took a mental picture of.

this could be the only time he was this close to you. he thought.

opening the door to your room you, you showed him around.

“you can sit anywhere your comfortable with, but i did get an extra chair for you at my desk.” you say to him. going and taking a seat next to the school work you had already laid out.

bokuto was taking in everything. your posters, your decorations, anything you had in their he was saving in a file in his brain.

he finally sat down next to you.

you started going over the project, he would follow your words with some “hmm” or “ook” but overall he didn’t seem very into it.

all bokuto could think about is you stuffed full of his cock. really it was a shame. you were talking to him and that’s all he could think about. he watched your lips as they instructed him. that’s all he really watched.

“bokuto.” you said in a firm voice.

“are you even listening?” you said to him slightly annoyed.

“uhh yea…” he replied guilt sinking in once again.

he was evil. he wanted you. he felt as if you had just teased him in the kitchen too. he wanted to get you back. bad.

he licked his lips. confidence surging through him for a second. he opened his mouth to say somthing.

but the words never came. blush flooded his face. you probably think he’s stupid at this point.

“you are so pretty.” he said quickly. it came out of nowhere. he didn’t even mean to say it. he was so embarrassed!

but there was no way you were gonna know how embarrassed he is. no, bokuto koutaro never gets embarrassed!

you stare back at him. confused. but to all honestly. you were aching for him. his frame so close to yours, made you painfully aware of how big he was.

and he just called you pretty. what even in your next move! what are you supposed to say to that!

“y/n…” he said quietly. it was soft. he had gotten closer to you then you realized. you could feel his breath on your lips.

“bokuto…” you whispered back to him. the distance was painful.

before you could register he had his lips on yours. closing the gap. you locked your lips with his. it was just a quick kiss. romantic if anything.

you two pulled away. staring him in the eyes, there was a hunger.

“i need more” he said before grabbing you cheeks and closing the distance again. you were shocked. this must be a dream.

your hands found his body. scooting as close as you could without falling off your chair. one of your hands found his bicep. the other on his shoulder.

the kisses grew hungrier. his pace picked up. you gasped when his hand found your thigh. it was a comfortable position.

he took this chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. you purrred against him.

your touches grew with sexual tension. you parted for a second to catch your breath. a line of saliva connecting you two.

“c’mere” he said scooting his chair back alittle. signaling you to get out of your chair.

you stood up waiting further instruction.

he reached up and grabbed your hips pulling you closer to him. he was still seated, legs apart.

you felt like you were on fire. his eyes took in all off you. his hands rubbed your hips. even going a little farther to pinch at the fat of your ass.

“wanna sit on my lap?” he said tilting his head to the side. you shook your head and slowly made your way to his lap. you were positioned so you could face him.

his hands cradled you, finding your curves.

“you think i’m pretty?” you said to him bringing your hands to his jaw.

“you have no idea.” he breathed out.

finding his lips again except the tension in the room was now thick. you were growing a pool in your panties. every touch of his fingers was doing numbers to your core.

without knowing it you slowly started to grind yourself against him. you only noticed when you felt bokuto grow underneath you. his hands moved to your ass. grabbing at it.

then his hands slowly fell even farther. coming concerningly close to your core.

“y/n…. can i…?” he parted quickly. out of breath begging you for more.

“yes bokuto.” you moaned out to him. still grinding your hips against him.

“do whatever you want” you moaned out throwing your head back. you were growing needy.

without any words bokuto grabbed you and picked you up. putting you down on the bed.

your back was on the bed with your legs folded to your chest. he had ahold of your shins.

he was standing above you grinning like a kid in a candy shop.

“i’ve been waiting for this.” he stated.

his fingers graced over your core, you sucked in breath.

“you have?” you whimpered out.

“i have liked you for quite sometime. i have even dreamt of doing somthing like this too you. y/n… you have no idea.” he said while taking off your pants. you were left in only your underwear. then he started working on your shirt, pulling it off over your head.

now being left only in your bra you felt very conscious of everything.

“fuck…” he said to himself seeing you drenched through your panties. this was truly his dream.

“can i?” he said before continuing.

you shook your head yes.

he touched your clothed core with a certain grace. seeming like he was afraid to hurt you. you moaned out at his touch.

your ass was almost off the bed when he slowly came to the ground squatting on two knees.

you soon realized what he wanted to do.

“bo… you don’t have too” you said painfully, when al you really wanted was his tongue on your cunt.

“i want to.” he said before stuffing his face into your core.

you still had your panties on but the friction was just too much. you moaned out back arching for him.

he was hooked. he circled anything he could with his tongue, even taking breaks to kiss your stomach. he finally took your underwear off.

staring at your naked core he was in love. he wanted to be the only man to ever see you like this.

experimentally he blew on it, seeing your body react and you moan out. he loved his life.

diving back into you he licked all of you. slurping up your juices, sucking at your clit. taking every angle he could to make you feel good.

“more…” you whimpered out.

he brought his fingers up to your hole without warning. he played with our rimming a finger around your clenched spot. sticking it in you he stucked on your clit simultaneously.

you moaned out. it was really too much. your core was building up at a fast rate as his finger pumped in and out of you.

he stoped and stood infront of you again. you looked up at him wondering why he had to hault your pleasure.

he took off his hoodie and sweats leaving himself in just his boxers.

and oh. my. god. he was wonderful. he was everything you could ever dream.

“bokuto… i need you.” you told him.

he was on fire right now. you were sprawled out on the bed, cunt for his to see.

“fuck… you drive me insane.” he said pulling his boxers down to free his length.

“oh my god” you moaned out. it was huge. there was no way that was going to inside you. his one finger did the job, so what is that thing even going to do to you.

“cmon baby you can take me.” he said lying down next to you on the bed. you crouch up on your knees.

“ride me.” he demanded.

you positioned yourself on top of him. grabbing at his his abs as you mentally prepped yourself for what was gonna be inside you.

slowly you reach down for his cock. he had already been stroking it.

you touch it and he lets in a sharp gasp of air. you give it a good couple pumps

“hah” he moaned out. you had kept eye contact the hold time you entered him in you.

lowering yourself as best you can. his face was of euphoria.

“bokuto… your tooooo big hah” you moaned out to him.

“call me koutarou” he gasped out.

you found the strength to get him in you. bottoming out you clenched around him.

“fuuuck kou” you moaned out. you started grinding yourself against him.

it was the best pain you had ever felt.

“your beautiful. oh my god.” he said as his hands found your boobs.

pulling your bra down and bringing his lips to your hardened nipples.

your back arched for him. you moaned out louder and louder.

bouncing against him. this was all he ever wanted. he was in heaven.

you felt that familiar coil in your core tighten up again.

and bokuto could tell. he felt your walls clench around him as your threw your head back.

before he could think about it he changed positions. throwing you on your back and into a missionary position.

he took it to himself to start pounding into you.

“kou… nnnits too muchhch” you moaned out. it was almost hard to hear because of the sound your pussy was making.

“cmon. you can take it” he grunted out, slamming himself into you.

you moaned more. eye contact the whole time he fucked you.

the way you clenched around him was almost painful. but he could tell you were close.

he brought his fingers to your sensitive bud.

“cum for me. come on baby you can do it.” he grunted.

“come on my cock.” he grunted even more.

you were so close.

“your mine, understand?”

that sent you have the edge. you clamped around him spasmsing through your orgasm.

bokuto barely pulled out in time to cum on your stomach.

“i’m yours im yours im yours…” you babbled off to yourself.

fuck.

you were both drained.

who ever thought this is where you would be.

he got up to get a tissue for you to wipe you off. then coming over to press a kiss to your forehead.

“i’ll be right back” he said he before he left.

he came back with some water and helped you up.

“what’s going on?” you asked still faint from your orgasm.

“i started a shower for us!” he beamed at you.

yep. he could definitely be the one for you.

………………………………………………………………………………….

- WOWWWWW WHAT DID I JUST WRITE! this is my longest and still some of my first works i’ve put out. well i hope you like it also. comment any ideas you guys have for me!

[ktownshizzle]

Terms & Conditions | Chapter 5

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Managing Min Yoongi as one of your encoders during his alternative military service should’ve been simple. He is quiet, punctual—and can apparently type as fast as he can rap! Not to mention the fact that he is easy on the eyes and keeps wanting to help you. You’ve signed an iron-clad NDA, detailing the full terms and conditions of his temporary employment, so you’re supposed to keep things professional, but what happens if neither of you wants to?

Genre: Fluff, eventual smut, co-workers to lovers, office romance, idol!au

Warnings: Purely speculative regarding Yoongi’s alternative military service and how this is really done in SK, I might include scootergate in a future chapter but please know it will be written sensibly imo and with so much love for our Yoongi (I just wanna protecc him at all costs even thru this silly story!), some cursing, boss/employee relationship sorta but there's no power play involved, reader and Yoongi are within the same age range

Chapter warnings: so this is probably 60-70% smut or leading up to smut 😅, am I crazy?, maybe?, idk man T&C yoongi just has a bunch of tricks up his sleeve, i’m literally just a girl, tongue technology but it may not be what u expect, oral, protected sex, breast worship, nip stim, fingering, spanking, lil bit of exhibitionism, petting, office sex almost getting caught but they still finish yay, trampy Danbi and her weak-ass lines, overuse of jagi and baby because that's how I roll, if i missed anything lmk. MINORS DNI!

Word count: 7.3k (approx. 35 mins to read)

Posting date: November 2, 2024

Notes: Idk what else to say. Hope you think the wait is worth it. ☺️ Enjoy~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Masterlist

You didn’t quite expect the night to end like this, but maybe part of you did. Spending intimate one-on-one time with Yoongi was a risk—one you knew would soften your heart even more. Despite every logical reason to pull back, to brace yourself for the shitstorm this would inevitably bring, you already made the choice. You were going to give this a try.

Yoongi offers you his hand, and you take it without hesitation. His grip is firm but gentle as he leads you from the cozy warmth of the living room to a quieter part of his apartment. 

You don’t know what to expect when you see his bedroom. But when he opens it to usher you in, you’re hit with a strange sense of familiarity and intimacy. Like the space is so him. Minimalist but warm, with soft neutral tones that you find soothing. The bed, a king-sized obviously for the king of naps, a spread of taupe gray sheets and a matching duvet dominates the center. The dim lighting casts a golden glow over the earthy walls, but what caught your attention was the view from his huge floor to ceiling windows.

Somehow during the time it took from the living room to his bedroom, the Hangang Rainbow Bridge decided to impress you a bit more. Technicolor lights mingle with swirls of water that shoot from jets along the bridge’s edge, setting the night alight.

It’s… wow. You can’t explain the onslaught of emotions you’re feeling at the moment. You just know that there’s no place else you’d rather be.

Yoongi stands behind you, his hand still resting lightly on yours, like he’s giving you space to take it all in. But the silence doesn’t last long. You turn to face him, your hands find his chest, fingers looping the strings of his hoodie as you pull him closer.

He doesn’t resist but there’s a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he leans into you, his breath warm against your skin. His lips find yours again and all the worries and doubts you carried with you slip away. You’re in it now, fully, and there’s no going back.

Hands slide up your back, under your top and something inside you snaps. You’re impatient now, hands slipping under his sweater, tugging it upward. Your fingers graze the warm skin underneath, and he lets out a soft chuckle, amused by your urgency.

"Easy, jagi," Yoongi whispers against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you, eyes glinting with amusement. "We’ve got all night."

The audacity of this man. Looks like a fuckin snacc, seduces you with his cooking and a slow dance, decides to call you jagi—then tells you to put on the brakes? 

You roll your eyes, but your fingers don’t stop. "You’re moving too slow," you complain, pulling the fabric up higher, desperate to get it off him. He laughs again, but this time, it’s softer, more affectionate. He’s clearly endeared by your impatience.

With a low chuckle, he helps you lift the hoodie off, tossing it carelessly to the floor, leaving him in a simple black tee that fits nicely across his strong shoulders. But he’s not done yet. He steps closer, hands finding the zipper of your hoodie, eyes darkening with intent. He takes his time, his fingers gliding over the metal. You can feel your breath hitch as he slowly pulls the zipper down, teasing you, dragging this out just to make you squirm.

"Let’s not rush this," he chides, as the zipper falls open, exposing your skin to the cool air. "I wanna take my time with you."

“Okay,” you mutter, lids fluttering shut as his hands push the garment from your shoulders, falling in a heap where his own lies.

One strap from your top sags with the motion, his plush lips quickly taking its place. He trails soft, velvety kisses towards your collarbone, then licks the tops of your breast, blows on it, cool air tickling the trail of wetness. A sigh escapes your mouth at the mix of sensations. 

“May I?” He asks, finger hooked on the other strap of your top.

“Yes,” you respond, engrossed at the way his eyes are drinking the slow reveal of your breasts as the fabric pools at your waist. 

“So perfect,” he muses, moving to sit on the edge of his bed, pulling you to stand in between his legs.

The angle is perfect for his mouth to connect with your chest effortlessly and you’re rewarded by the mesmerizing view of his pouty lips as they push and pull against your puffy nipples.

A name you’ve never used for any lover ever seems to spill seamlessly from your lips, only for the man responsible for your current state of disarray. “Baby… you’re so good at that.”

Yoongi nips your tits playfully, approvingly, and you can’t help but moan at the sudden jolt of pleasure.

“Fuck—your tits,” he purrs, face pressed against your sternum while his hands push your mounds inwards to squish his cheeks. “They’re so soft, jagi. Mmm.”

Yoongi stays there for a while feeling the plush flesh against his face, and when you scratch his scalp with your long fingernails, he lets out a needy little whimper that almost sounds like a cat’s purr.

He moves to lavish your other breast, tongue darting out to coax it to peak. His eyes are transfixed on you and you can’t bring yourself to look away. He starts with kitten licks, before rolling it around your areola, and when it starts to pebble, his tongue moves faster and faster to flick at the tip and holy shit how is he so good at that?!

Lost in the feeling, you suddenly feel a tap on the side of your lips. It’s his fingers, the pointer and the middle, seeking entry. “Suck them for me,” he instructs and you do not have to be told twice.

You suck and lick around the digits and before you can even get into it he retrieves it and coats your free nipple with your own spit. The slick pinches of his fingers feel wonderful against your bud and with his mouth alternating sucks and rapid licks on the other, you start to feel a familiar yet wholly unfamiliar feeling igniting in your belly.

Yoongi’s so good and so, so fuckin’ sexy… And god his tongue. He really knows what he’s doing. You’ve never been with anyone who has made you crumble like this.

Soon enough you are panting and moaning haplessly. Your hands find purchase on the back of his neck, body tingling with a newfound sensation. When his teeth and blunt nails clamp down your nipples in unison, the stimulation becomes—fuck—too much to bear and

Wait—did you just??? 

Heat bursts inside your chest and your body surges forward as a sweet, subtle high, erupts within you in unexpected waves. The orgasm catches you off guard like a thief in the night. It feels like a gentle rumble, more like a preamble, and you’re already needy to feel the next. 

Yoongi steadies you as your knees give way, easing you into the cushions until you’re lying beside him.

“Yoongi…” you’re suddenly as shy as a mouse.

“Mm?” he asks, amusement apparent, ‘cause of course he knows. He knows you came just from nipple play.

“I uh I’ve… never—” you stammer, crossing your arms across your chest, a little embarrassed from what they’ve just made you do. “…that’s never happened before.”

“Did it feel good?” Yoongi asks, cupping the side of your jaw to make you look at him.

“So good,” you sigh. You can’t even fault him if his ego inflates after this.

“Then stop pouting and give me back those lips,” he pulls you towards him with a smirk. You crash your lips on his, swinging one leg across his waist as you hoist yourself atop him without breaking your contact.

Your weight settles against his center and you can feel the semi under his jeans rumbling to life as you do some experimental rolls of your hips. His hands fly to your ass, squeezing them as you grind against his stiffness.

“Take this off,” you instruct, although your hands are already hoisting his tee up and off his body. 

Once gone, you rake your greedy nails across his toned chest earning a tut from him as red marks immediately bloomed on the milky surface. You drag your tongue across the indents, capturing a nipple along the way, before ending on his neck and sucking softly. You enjoy the low rumbles in his throat for a bit before you push yourself out of bed, coming to stand by the edge where his legs dangle over.

Yoongi props himself up on his elbows, abs flexing to your quiet delight as he waits for your next move.

“Gonna give me a show?” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

You smile cheekily, pushing your blouse down and it falls on the ground by your ankles. Belt loops are pulled and released and the button of your jeans goes next.

Yoongi’s eyes devour you as you shimmy the jeans down leaving you in a thin scrap of lace that barely covers your pussy.

Alright, so you did prepare in the eventuality that this would happen.

Newly bought and newly washed, it was something you had picked up in a boutique yesterday with Chae. White (or coconut white, as the sales associate said), it has delicate scallop trims around the leg openings and a thin waistband that criss-crosses at the back connecting to the thong. It was out of your usual price range, but you let your credit card take the hit, thinking his reaction will be priceless.

You’re right.

A pink tongue swoops outside of his gaping mouth. He shakes his head at you as if you did him dirty, but you both know that’s a look of appreciation.

He shifts to sit fully, sweaty palms immediately sliding up your legs to cradle the meat of your ass as he continues to ogle at the sight in front of him.

“This is pretty.” 

“I picked it for you,” you admit bashfully.

“I know you did, jagi,” he smirks. Sniffs. And there’s something wildly erotic in the way his nose nudges the lace where you know a patch of wetness has already formed.

He pokes the fabric in the middle, exactly where your clit is hiding and that brief contact sends sparks to your limbs. Fingers pinch the lace together, gathering it towards the slit of your pussy, then he does something that makes you gasp. He tugs the fabric up and down, the rough texture of the lace rocking against your puffed up clit, arousing you in a way you haven’t felt before.

“Shit,” you steady yourself against his shoulder, as you feel his mouth take one side of your pussy lips to suck. The friction feels phenomenal. More wetness gushes out of you and you decide to put a stop to things before it escalates again.

“Wanna see the back?” Needing reprieve, you turn around before he can answer.

You hear his sharp inhale. “Shit, your body is insane.”

Something akin to pride blossoms in your chest. You admit wondering how you might compare to other people who he’s been with. Probably gorgeous people sculpted by the gods just like him. But the way he looks at you—devastating, almost devoted—you’d be a fool to think he doesn’t view you as a descendant of Aphrodite, herself.

But then he bites the waistband and lets it ping against your skin, bringing you back to the present.

“Yoongi!” You gasp, pushing him towards the cushions and the bastard just giggles as he falls.

But the playful moment leaves after a beat, and soon enough, his pants disappear from his body, leaving him in black boxers, which you quickly get rid of as well.

Oh.

Okay.

You gulp.

He got that big dick energy and now you have the proof. 

Your knees sink on the mattress, between his open thighs, the perfect spot for you to worship his cock. Heavy against his stomach, veins run up towards the head—red and swollen and angry. A bead of cum pools at the tiny slit at the very tip. Cute.

“Is this for me?”

“All for you.”

You hum, delighted. “All mine,” you say and you feel him throb against your hand as you reward him with a few pumps. After a while, you let your mouth take over, first cleaning up the salty precum on the tip with swipes of your tongue, noisily licking it for his audible enjoyment. 

The sheets move beneath you as Yoongi grips them, face already a picture of impatience. “Don’t tease,” he says.

You suck him with gusto, letting your spit dribble down his hard length. You fist the base of his cock, timing your strokes with each bob of your head. The breathless moans coming from his lips only spurs you to keep at this smooth cadence.

A hand threads through the side of your hair before it is gathered in a loose grip. He doesn’t guide your movements, but anchors himself on you as if he’s at the edge of his life—he sure does sound like it. Groans and grunts huff out of his throat, sound bytes you need to mentally record for use when you're alone.

“Ahh, hol’ up…” he gently tugs your hair, cock falling from your lips and slapping against his tummy.

You look up at him, wiping your bottom lip with the back of your hand.

“I need to be inside you.”

“How do you want me, baby?”

“I need that perfect ass up in the air,” he replies, lips curling up, “Don’t remove your panties.”

You both shift around the bed, and you end up face down by his pillows. You can smell the comforting scent of his fabric conditioner and maybe his shampoo, rooting you in the present.

His hands grip your waist, tracing the contours of your body, sweat lubricating the path towards

“This ass…” he says, more to himself than you. You feel him lick one of your cheeks before he bites down, making you squeal.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“For what?”

He rips your lace panties in half, the poor fabric sent sailing to the other side of the room. You somehow knew it was coming when he asked that it stays on.

“Kinda cliche,” you tease and he chuckles. “You left me with no choice.”

“Well, you could’ve not ripped it actually. Those are new,” you scold him with no real bite.

His chest connects with your back, and you feel a smooch or two being deposited to your shoulder blades. “I’ll replace it.”

He hitches your hips back so you can feel the ridge of his cock between your ass, hand reaching forward towards your mound. “Let me prep you real quick…”

“NO.”

“No?”

Your patience has worn thin. “I can’t wait anymore, just fuck me.”

You hear the crinkle of foil, the adjustment of rubber, then you feel it. The tip of his dick teases your folds, coating it with the juices seeping from your cunt. Gentle in the way he plants one of his hands on your waist, Yoongi reminds you, “Tell me to stop if it hurts.”

His cock finally breaches your entrance, your swollen walls accommodating his girth slowly but spectacularly. You love the burn inside. A loud moan launches itself from your throat as he bottoms out, the feeling full, stuffed, complete.

“Mmh, Yoongi, you’re so big…” you couldn’t help but clench at the delicious stretch.

“So tight, shit. W-wait, don’t do that—” Yoongi already sounds wrecked. 

“Please move,” you beg, throwing your ass back once, and you hear Yoongi grunt, hands gripping your waist tighter.

He starts rocking his hips, pushing his length earnestly into you that you’re sure you will feel him if you press on your lower stomach. Your cunt is on fire, but your clit is aching for some relief.

Mind read, Yoongi tells you to touch yourself so you do, plunging your middle finger on your nub. The pleasure increases tenfold. 

Yoongi groans as he continues to fuck himself into you. He doesn’t say anything else but his labored breaths are signifying his forthcoming demise.

He slips out of you and you almost scream at the loss.

Quickly you’re flipped to your back and you are hit with the sight of Yoongi’s crumbling composure, a lone drop of sweat trailing from his jaw to his chin.

He lines himself up on you again and this time the glide is smooth, your slippery cunt offering little to no resistance as he ruts against you, fast and fuckin’ furious.

“You’re fucking me so well, baby,” you praise in stuttered phrasing, and his forehead drops to rest on yours, the rhythm of this thrusts unchanging.

You frame his face with your hands and pull him towards you. You kiss him. Lick the back of his teeth. Tug at his bottom lip. And the neediest whine slips from his mouth onto yours.

“Are you close, jagi? Cause I fuckin am…” his voice is almost drowned by the sounds of skin slapping on skin, and the feral noises you’re involuntarily making.

“Y-yes…” you say as you play with one of your nipples, shuddering slightly from over sensitivity.

His pace increases even more with a sudden, breathless urgency. Every nerve in your body is buzzing to life, every part of you aware of how your bodies are connected. Maybe it’s the intensity in his eyes, or the way his tongue moistens his lips, but it’s enough to push you careening off the cliff, as your walls clamp down on his cock, body vibrating in a surge of electricity.

The way he pushes himself on to you is desperate. He looks so fucked out but he doesn’t stop fucking you. Not until the movement of his hips becomes erratic and he pulses inside of you with one prolonged moan, and the condom inside of you fills up with the proof of his pleasure.

You wish you started taking those damn birth control pills earlier.

“You good?” you ask, raking your nails against the clammy skin of his back. His head rests on the crook of your neck.

He lifts his head to level with yours, a lopsided grin on his lips. “Better. Bestest.” He looks positively drunk.

You shove a hand across his face, “you’re stupid.”

He shakes his head, rolling out of bed to dispose of the condom and to get a warm washcloth for you. He helps you clean up and you steal his tee from the floor, pulling it over your head before he can even protest. 

“I can get you a fresh one,” he offers.

“I want this, smells like you,” you say.

His nose crinkles like he couldn’t stand your cheesiness, but of course he pulls you towards his body and under the duvet.

You share a brief kiss, but you’re too spent to do anything else, and soon enough, sleep claims you both.

The morning light filters softly through Yoongi’s curtains and you can see the dustmites floating in the air like glitter. You blink yourself awake, the memories of last night still wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The actual blankets are tangled around your waist, and the faint sound of movement in the kitchen catches your attention.

You stretch, feeling the pull of muscles you didn’t realize would be sore. Everything about this moment feels surreal—like you’re hovering between reality and some alternate version of it.

Yoongi pads into the room, dressed in a loose white t-shirt and dark gray sweatpants. He looks cozy. When he sees you, his lips curve into a soft smile.

“Good morning, jagi.” His voice is a smooth melody, the last word warming you instantly. You really can get used to him calling you that.

You bite your lip, smiling back. “Morning.”

He crosses the room in a few steps and hands you a warm mug.

His cheeks are adorably puffy, and his eyes still look a bit more squinty than usual. All you want to do is reach out and squish that face.

“Didn’t think you’d be up this early,” you say, before taking a quick sip from your cup. “Thought you weren’t a morning person.”

“Had to make sure you didn’t disappear on me.” He sits on the edge of the bed, but his eyes stay locked on yours, watching you closely.

You pout. “Why would I leave?” 

Yoongi shrugs, setting his mug down on the nightstand before turning back to you. “Just wanted to make sure you don’t regret last night.” The vulnerability hidden in his tone catches you off guard, his casual words heavy with meaning.

Your heart skips, but you cover it with a grin. “Regret? Not a chance. I mean, the bed was comfortable, and you didn’t snore, so…” You throw in a teasing smile, watching for his reaction.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. There’s something behind his eyes, something uncertain. He’s usually so composed, always knowing where he stands. But right now, he seems like he’s choosing his next words carefully.

Before you can dwell on it, he leans forward, bracing his hands on either side of you. You are caught off-guard by the sudden proximity and you’re not ready for the tsunami of emotions roaring in your chest. He says your name, before carefully stating the next few words.

“I’m all in. You know that, right?”

The vulnerability in his voice is palpable, like he’s still waiting for you to pull away, to tell him this was a mistake. That this was a bad idea, like you said last night. The importance of his words hits you, your heartbeat quickening under his gaze. 

All in. Wow. He really said that.

The way Yoongi’s looking at you right now, like he’s handing you his heart—fuck, it’s overwhelming. It’s exactly what you want, and you can’t explain the emotions that fill you up.

But you’re not about to let him off easy. You tilt your head, sipping your coffee slowly as you let the silence stretch just a little longer than necessary. “All in, huh? That’s a big commitment. You sure you can handle me?”

He lets out a soft chuckle, his breath warm against your cheek. “I think I can handle you. The real question is… can you handle me?”

You set the mug down, leaning back into the pillows, a small grin on your lips, but your next words are as honest as can be. “Yoongi, you’re a lot to handle. You’ve got way too many strings attached. Might be more than I can take on.”

You may have said it as a joke, but you know what they say about jokes being half-meant. He knows it, too. His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together effortlessly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“We can take it slow,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna take care of you, you’ll see,” voice gentler now. “And if you’re in, I’m in—completely.”

You can see the sincerity in the way he looks at you, the way he’s offering more than just casual affection.

If you would be totally honest, you still had some doubts. There were too many variables that you both still need to discuss. But for now, there is only one appropriate response and you are willing to give it to him. 

“Okay,” you finally whisper. “I’m in, too.”

The gummy smile that breaks across his face is blinding, and there’s something like relief in it that makes your heart flip. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, and you can’t help but grin.

But the sweet gesture turns into something else as his hands slip under the hem of the shirt you’re wearing—his shirt—his touch slow, deliberate. His fingertips graze the bare skin of your waist, sending a ripple of heat through you.

You lean into him, coffee forgotten, tugging him down into a kiss that’s lazy like Sunday morning. He tastes like his Americano, and the way his lips move against yours makes your head spin.

Yoongi’s lips trail down your neck, pressing soft pecks to your skin. His hands slide up your back, pulling you closer.

You move back just slightly, a teasing smirk on your lips. “Aren’t we having breakfast first?”

His eyes darken with a lazy grin, the hand from your back now moving to grasp one of your tits. “That's exactly what I’m having right now.”

You’re utterly screwed.

Yoongi wastes no time diving in your cunt, especially since your underwear is MIA. Tongue flat, he licks your slit once, does it again, and earns a desperate whine from you. It doesn’t take long for him to start making out with your clit, gamely exploring this part of your body in a way he wasn’t able to do last night. He spreads you apart, tongue moving faster and faster like it’s his only setting.

“Just like that…” you say, already feeling embarrassingly close.

He pushes two fingers inside you, gets you plugged nice and tight for him. “You there, jagi?” He lifts his head slightly, to see your reaction.

You curse, gripping the short hair on his neck only to push him back towards his unfinished business.

You feel the smirk against your folds before he resumes his messy work against your pussy, wet muscle dancing in delicious figure eights.

“I–shit, I’m cumming…”

Your legs shake, your moans get louder, and your ears are filled with static as you come, hard, his fingers almost darting out of your hole from the strength of your release.

Yoongi hums and the vibration from his lips coaxes you down from your high.

“That was…” your words trail off as you stare at the white ceiling, lungs needing to be filled with oxygen.

Yoongi dutifully cleans his own mess between your thighs. With his tongue.

When he’s done, your world tilts back to normal (ish) and before you can offer to reciprocate, Yoongi is already slinking out the room, calling after you, “Come, jagi, I cooked haemul pajeon and, don’t bring your coffee, I’ll make you a fresh one.”

If this is how he vows to take care of you, damn, you’re one lucky bitch.

You’re back to work the next day. He insisted on picking you up from your apartment, though you tell him it was not necessary as it may raise some suspicion. You both keep things professional once clocked in but you cannot deny there’s a magnetic pull that is making it difficult to keep your paws away from each other. Once in a while Yoongi catches your eye and you’re brought back to your weekend of debauchery. When he nudges his head towards the door in the back of your office, you already know what he’s asking.

You don't say no. You say, 'later.'

The office has that late afternoon hush, when most people are too buried in their work to notice anything else. It’s just you and Yoongi, tucked away in the back office closet, a space that smells like old paper and dust. You’ve been here before of course—sorting files, you know, actual work—but today, when you enter, you only have one task: you and Yoongi are set to defile the file closet.

Yoongi stands so close you can feel his breath on your neck, his hands resting just above your hips, pressing you lightly against the Ikea file cabinet you both put together weeks ago. 

“Alone at fuckin’ last,” he murmurs.

“C’mere baby,” you whisper, arms slipping around his neck. His gaze darkens, and for a moment, everything else fades.

He leans in, kissing you slow—so slow you think you might combust. You push your tongue against the seam of his lips, a little insistent, because you really can’t take your sweet time in this ancient closet.

Yoongi’s fingers start working the buttons of your blouse, one by one. The way his eyes trace your skin makes every hair on your body stand to attention.

But just as his hand slips inside, the door rattles.

You both freeze. Heart in your fuckin’ throat.

“Yoongi, you in here?” Hyun-woo’s voice pierces through the thick air. The panic kicks in fast, adrenaline flooding your veins.

Yoongi pulls back, completely nonplussed, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. How the fuck is he always so calm? He reaches out, smoothing your hair as if he’s done this a hundred times before. The tenderness in the gesture only makes your heart pound harder.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he calls out, voice steady, like he isn’t seconds away from getting caught with his hand halfway inside your blouse. “Just organizing files.”

Hyun-woo opens the door, peering in, eyes narrowing slightly.

You flash a too-bright smile. “Hi, Hyun-woo! Just teaching Yoongi with the filing. Total disaster in here.”

Hyun-woo doesn’t buy it, not completely, but the suspicion in his eyes fades as quickly as it appeared. “Right. Well, don’t take too long. That room always triggers my claustrophobia.” He pulls the neck of his shirt forward.

Yoongi replies, giving him that practiced, unbothered nod. “Just finishing up.”

As the main door to your office clicks shut, you let out a breath you’ve been holding for far too long.

“That was way too close,” you whisper, your pulse still racing.

Yoongi grins, closing the door again with a nudge of his foot. “Too close,” he agrees, voice low and teasing, as he leans in to steal a quick kiss. “But I’m not done yet.”

“Wha—” The question barely leaves your mouth before Yoongi’s hands are on your shoulders, turning you smoothly so that you’re facing the file cabinet.

“Remember when we were building this very cabinet?” His voice has dropped even lower now, sending a shiver down your spine.

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “Yeah?” Your hands are guided to grip the top corners of the cabinet, and your breath catches. What is he doing?

Yoongi doesn’t give you time to process. His voice slides closer, warm against the back of your neck. “What were you doing then?”

You frown slightly, the question catching you off guard. “Nothing…” you say, but it comes out uncertain, more like a question than an answer.

Without warning, his palm connects with your ass—firm, but playful. You gasp, more out of surprise than pain, and turn your head to find him wearing that lopsided grin that drives you crazy. “Ddaeng,” he chimes, the word rolling off his tongue with a playful edge. “Try again.”

“I was—I was helping you,” you say, though your voice is wavering.

“Ddaeng,” he says again, the second slap sharper this time. “You did jack shit. C’mon, jagi, use your pretty little brain…”

“Fuck,” you mutter, feeling your face flush. “I was… I was looking at your hands.”

Yoongi nods approvingly, his grin deepening. “And why were you doing that, hmm?”

You hesitate, your heart thumping harder, not from nerves, but from the way he’s pushing you. You know the answer. 

“Because…” You swallow the admission heavy on your tongue, deciding to go the other way instead. “You were taking too long to build it.”

SLAP! “Ddaeng,” the third is much more deliciously painful now, your bum soothed by his large palms. “Huh, I think my jagi enjoys being spanked.” He licks the shell of your ear, making your knees buckle, and his voice comes through in a suspiciously calm tone, “Lie to me again and I’m going to step out this door and leave you here dripping. I bet you’re already wet.”

“Drier than the air in Daegu.” You jest, even as your lips tremble.

You squirm as he pins you against the cabinet, his hand making quick work of the top button of your linen pants. Things are happening so fast. His hand disappears inside, hooks your panties to the side and dips one finger shallowly at your entrance. God you wanna scream.

You squirm some more, but he’s got you pressed up, not enough to hurt you, but enough to limit your movements.

“Liar,” he chuckles darkly. In one quick motion his hand flies out of your pants and goes into his mouth, tasting you. You can literally smell the heady scent of your arousal filling the tiny space, making you needy for some relief.

“Yoongi,” you whine, trying to throw your ass back against his crotch. “Baby, please…”

“Why were you looking at my hands…” he jerks back, not giving you any relief, and asks again. “What do you want me to do with them?”

“I want you to put them inside me.”

“Hmm, what else…” he starts to unbutton your blouse again, not all the way, but so he can yank one of the cups of your bra to tease a nipple.

A flick from his moist finger and you’re already writhing in desperation.

“I want them stuffed in my mouth, and—shit—my pussy. I want them… choking me.”

“Naughty girl,” he tsks, pinching your nipple between his deft fingers, eliciting a moan from you. You feel his warm breath against your ear, teasing you. “Shhh…. I thought we were gonna keep things professional.”

Christ. He knows how sensitive your nipples are and he’s getting you so worked up again you might go criminally insane. You somehow manage to reply.

“I need you…” you whimper. “To fuck me with your fingers.” another whine. “Like a goddamn professional.”

“So bossy,” he chuckles, as his other hand dips under the waistband of your panties, past your fine hairs, and into your waiting folds. His middle finger immediately finds your clit and starts rubbing it in circles. “How’s this?”

You nod, and you gulp, and you stutter, “Good, s-so good.”

Because fuck, everything just feels so damn good. Bones softening, you are merely putty in his hands. Those sinful hands that are coated with your juices, moving in sync to bring you to your demise.

He envelops your ear with his mouth, hot breath further fanning the flames in your core. The way you can hear the sounds of his licks and soft grunts in fuckin’ Dolby atmos–oh my god.

Without any warning, he plunges two fingers in your entrance, your walls immediately sucking them in. 

“You’re soaked, jagi,” he husks, large hands pushing your breasts together under your bra, to give you another sensation to enjoy.

His knee nudges yours to close the gap between your feet, and, when you do, everything in your pussy feels even more wonderfully snug. His thumb provides the perfect pressure against your clit, while his fingers move in and out of your cunt with noisy squelches that are bouncing off the walls of the tiny room.

“Am I completing the task to your liking?” he asks teasingly, even though he can feel every proof of his job well done with the way your body is vibrating against him.

“Shit, y-yeah,” you breathe out, turning your head to the side, so you can try to capture his lips. He lets you have it, twirling his tongue against yours.

Mouths still connected, he thrusts against your ass, and his fingers go in much, much deeper. Yoongi swallows your moans as you grip the edge of the cabinet, holding on to your life.

“M close,” you plead. “Don’t stop.”

He sets a staggering pace with his fingers inside your clenching walls, thumb repeatedly bumping your bundle of nerves.

His other hand creeps up your neck towards your chin and your mouth immediately chases it, taking his thumb inside your mouth like a goddamn fiend as the rest of his fingers cradle your jaw.

Salt on your tongue, sweat on your back, slick against your core, a cacophony of pleasure keeps building in record speed until you can’t take it anymore.

“Take it, jagi.” Yoongi says. “Take it like a good fuckin’ girl.”

Finally, the threads keeping your sanity intact finally snaps and a rush of euphoria overcomes you. Yoongi attaches his mouth on the sensitive part under your ear, sucking softly while you come undone against him. An arm circles your waist as he lets you ride the wave, murmuring praise against your skin.

“Remind me to keep wet wipes here,” Yoongi says jokingly as he helps you button up your blouse.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

So much for keeping things professional.

Wait—it’s not like you’ve started fucking on the reg at work. Sure there was that time in the file closet (Monday), but that was it. You still pride yourself as a dutiful professional and want to ensure your blossoming relationship is not going to get in the way of your productivity.

But since that closet tryst, you haven’t really done much inside or outside the office. He hasn’t invited you again to his apartment and you haven’t asked him to come to yours. Granted it’s only been a few days, and you did say you were going to take it slow, but tbh, you were already feeling kinda needy.

The problem is, it’s early enough in your sex life that you still know your tally and it’s 4:1. That’s the ratio of orgasms–yours to his. You are lucky he is such a generous lover, but you need to tip the scale in his favor, and fast.

It’s thirsty Thursday. For you, at least. The moment he invites you to the breakroom for your usual shit afternoon coffee, your horny brain immediately concocts a little plan of action.

See that area behind the counter, that’s a CCTV blind spot. It’s quiet, it’s not secluded but the counter is high enough and if you open the bottom cabinet door, you get some extra shield.

“You know you’re asking for trouble, right?” he shakes his head at you, before running his hand through his hair.

You are already palming him against his trousers, biting your lip as you feel his erection grow with each pass.

“Trouble’s my specialty, remember?,” you reply, your tone light, playful.

“Mmh, jagi, fuck–” he slaps his palm on the countertop, bowing his head to watch your hand hasten its strokes. But just as you’re about to kneel, the door swings open. Fuck. You both pull back like teenagers caught sneaking out, your heart dropping into your stomach as Danbi walks in. Her eyes widen at the sight of the two of you—close, too close.

“Oh. I didn’t realize anyone was in here,” she says what is so obviously an outright lie. You can feel her gaze flick between you and Yoongi, curiosity practically radiating off her.

You walk towards the fridge on the other side of the room, forcing a neutral smile. “Just grabbing some snacks,” you say, even though your stomach’s in knots.

Danbi raises an eyebrow, but then her attention shifts fully to Yoongi. “I don’t think we’ve met,” she says, all sweet smiles as she extends a hand. “I’m Choi Danbi from Accounting.”

Yoongi takes her hand, but his expression doesn’t shift—polite, but distant. “Min Yoongi,” he says, his tone cool, relaxed, as if he is not sporting a semi from behind the counter.

And then, Danbi does the thing that makes you cringe to your core.

“So, Yoongi, do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes so hard they’d never come back. Yoongi, though, doesn’t flinch. He releases her hand and his guarded expression unchanged.

“Not really,” he says flatly. “I’m more of a ‘get to know someone’ kind of guy.”

Danbi’s eyes brighten, completely missing the hint because she is a daft cow. “Well, then—why don’t we? You know, get to know each other. Could be fun.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake! 

You grit your teeth, trying not to let your irritation show as you slam the fridge door, glass bottles inside saluting each other. But Yoongi doesn’t miss a beat, his expression still calm, still unreadable.

“I appreciate the offer,” he says smoothly, keeping his tone light, “but I’m not interested in doing that. Sorry.” His eyes flick to you for just a second—quick, but deliberate.

Danbi’s smile falters. Her eyes follow Yoongi’s glance to you, and something odd flickers across her face. She forces out a laugh, backing up toward the door. “Right. Well, can’t blame a girl for trying.”

Yoongi nods politely, but his attention is already drifting back to you.

The moment the door clicks shut behind her, you let out a frustrated sigh. “What the hell was that?”

Yoongi shrugs, clearly unfazed. “People shoot their shot. No big deal.”

“No big deal?” You raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms as you glare at him. “That was straight-up workplace harassment.”

He chuckles, amused by your frustration. “Are you jealous?”

“Jealous? No. Annoyed? Hell yes.”

He smirks, pulling you by the wrist back to your shared office. People walking down the hallway may see you, but at the moment you are a raging bull. You’re still fuming, muttering about Danbi’s persistence and her complete lack of subtlety, but Yoongi stays quiet, listening as you rant. By the time you step into the office, your nerves are on edge, and you can feel the heat of your frustration bubbling over.

But the second you’re both inside, Yoongi pulls you into his arms. No warning, no hesitation. His grip is firm, grounding, and despite yourself, your body softens against him.

“Jagiya,” he murmurs sweetly against your hair. “Relax.”

You try to stay annoyed, but Yoongi’s tone, his steady heartbeat under your cheek, makes it difficult. He leans back slightly, his hands slipping to your waist as he looks down at you, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You know I’m all yours, right?”

You look up at him, biting back the last of your frustration. “I know. It’s just… she was so pushy.”

He nods, his thumbs brushing your sides in a calming rhythm. “She was. But it didn’t change anything.” His voice drops lower, more serious now. “It’s still you.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there, the quiet confidence in his voice. You’ve known this for a while now, but hearing him say it—feeling him say it—it hits different.

Something shifts inside you. That underlying fear you’ve been holding onto, the doubt that maybe you’re just a phase for him, gone. 

You’re all in.

Before you can say anything, Yoongi presses his lips to your forehead, his arms tightening around you, his touch both protective and possessive in the best way. “You good?” 

You nod against his chest, smiling to yourself. “Yeah. I’m good.” And for the first time, you really believe it.

As you pull back to meet his gaze, a smirk tugs at your lips. “You know, you could’ve shut her down sooner.”

Yoongi grins, thumb tracing the edge of your jaw. “Thought you might like to watch me handle it.”

You laugh, swatting his arm. “Next time, I’ll just handle it myself.”

He chuckles, shoulders bobbing as he pulls you back into his arms. “Can’t wait to see that.”

You lean into his embrace, letting the last of your frustration fade. In this moment, it’s just you and him. Everything else? Background noise.

Because you’re in it. All the way.

Notes: Phew! So… how are we? Gosh, this was honestly a beast to write for me. Did you like the chapter? Hate it? I’d love your feedback. Let's have fun in the comments!!! :)

Taglist:

@glossdebut @kam9404 @mar-lo-pap @nnybtitts08 @granataepfelchen

@perfectiondazesworld @wobblewobble822 @yoongznme @caressesurloceanlove @rinkud

@kayleefriedchicken @jajabro @tinytan-gerine @xxbibin1208 @forevercarpediem227

@yoongicatagenda @someshinesomedont @marnz1990 @iheartshopping @confidentjus

@queenbloody @whydoeyecare @sadroses98 @curlyquennn

@sexytholland @kiki-zb @hiddlestandom @babyarmybabbles @medicinemybish

[elix8r]

PRADA SHOES + I LOVE YOUS TEASER

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader 

GENRE: smut, angst, crack, (some?) fluff, college!au, exes to lovers!au, enemies to lovers!au, socialite/richkid!au

SUMMARY: Life as a socialite wasn’t all champagnes and designer labels, especially not with the turn your reputation took due to a simple misunderstanding. Now, you were being painted by everyone as a big fat cheater who shattered her sweet boyfriend’s heart—a narrative that couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, it was him who had betrayed your trust. Frustrated and feeling deeply wronged, you returned to society and the new school year after a summer of cutting off contact with everyone and the drama. But just when you thought you were ready to face the world again, you were blindsided by something unexpected: the lingering effect Heeseung had on you. And who could blame you? Heeseung was way too hot for you to get over in just three short months and now, seeing him with the girl he once told you not to worry about all over him? Oh, it was on. 

You refused to be replaced, labeled as a crazy ex, or forgotten. No, you were going to make Lee Heeseung realize that you were the best motherfucking thing to had ever happened to him. 

WC: 1.3K for teaser (i'm thinking 20k+ for the actual fic)

WARNINGS (FOR THE TEASER): profanity + mentions of infidelity

RELEASE DATE: Unknown but I am aiming for before summer ends

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey everyone!! lt's been so long since I've posted one of these so I decided to give you a really long teaser and also cause this is going to be a long one to write so you'll have to be a little more patient! But I hope you guys enjoy this and is excited for this fic cause I love writing it! Everyone is so messy (and lowkey kinda terrible) but it'll be a fun one so pls look forward to it!! Lmk if you wanna be on the taglist ☺️

Heeseung was going to fucking kill Jake Sim. 

When he woke up this morning, you were the last thing on his mind, something he seemed to have finally freed himself from. However, all the hard work he put into casting you away from his mind seemed to have been in vain, as now all he could think about was you and how you had returned after three months of radio silence with the guy you cheated on him with.

Livid didn’t even cover what he was feeling, and it was evident in the way he swung his club. Each hit seemed to be driven by a surge of pent-up frustration.

“What the hell, man? That’s the third time today you’ve been way off course. What’s going on?” Jay shot him an incredulous look as he tried to locate where the golf ball had landed.

Heeseung let out a frustrated groan as he ripped off his glove and shoved his driver back into his bag. “Y/N’s fucking back.”

That was all Jay needed to hear to understand what was going on with his friend. "Shit, I saw. I’m sorry dude, it’s fucked up."

Heeseung was in no mindset to be playing golf right now. All he wanted was to go back home and wallow miserably in his bed. Unfortunately, they were only on hole ten of eighteen, and judging by his performance today, Heeseung knew it was going to take awhile.

"Did you know?" Heeseung couldn't help but blurt out, his frustration evident in his voice as he watched Jay effortlessly swing a shot miles better than his own.

Confusion flickered across Jay's face as he turned to face his friend. "What do you mean?"

“Did you know that she was coming back with Jake?” Heeseung felt his jaw tense as he mentioned his ex-friend.

“I didn’t even know he was with her until today. Honestly, I thought he’d just fucked off somewhere and didn’t bother telling any of us, considering how things went down. You know me, I would’ve told you straight up if I had found out earlier.” Heeseung trusted Jay implicitly. He was as loyal as they came, but unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for everyone in their friend group.

"Do you think Sunghoon knew?" Heeseung's question elicited an audible groan from Jay.

If anyone in their friend group knew how Jake spent his summer, it would undoubtedly be Sunghoon. However, Sunghoon was notoriously tight-lipped, especially when it came to sensitive matters. Since the breakup, the entire friend group had undergone an incredibly awkward shift. It seemed that everyone had more or less chosen a side, and allegiances were clear.

"You know he wouldn't tell us anything if he did. It's getting ridiculous. The other day, I saw Gaeul and him having brunch or something at the clubhouse, and the moment she spotted me, she practically sprinted over to explain herself. She claimed she's still 'Switzerland' in the whole situation and hasn't chosen a side," Jay recounted, frustration evident in his voice. 

Heeseung almost snorted at the absurdity of it all. Their friend group had never been one to keep secrets or tiptoe around each other, but the last few months had been nothing but that. The betrayal by you and Jake had not only affected Heeseung's relationship with you but had also tainted the dynamic of their entire friend group.

“Literally, what is there to be ‘Switzerland’ about? I mean, this whole thing isn’t even complicated. Everyone saw them go into the bathroom together and come out literally holding hands. Trust me, I know what she looks like after giving head, and that's literally what she looked like in that video Beomgyu sent. Plus, Karina literally heard them.” Heeseung angrily got into the golf cart as Jay fished the keys out to start driving.

“Okay, well, no offense, but in all honesty, Karina’s probably not the most reliable source, cause she’s in an extremely biased position, but I guess that’s beside the point.” Jay’s words seemed to instantly bring a frown upon Heeseung’s face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Heeseung’s tone sharply switched up in an almost defensive manner.

Jay, feeling this shift, nervously cleared his throat as he stammered, trying his best not to offend his already sensitive friend regarding an even more fragile situation. “I mean, uh, well. You know…”

“What?” The grip he had on the seat of the golf cart seemed to get tighter as he waited for his friend to elaborate.

“Dude, you can't be serious? You know Karina’s been trying to ride your dick for the past, what, give or take ten years? I mean, we all know that she’s never had a good relationship with Y/N, and I’m pretty sure most of that resentment stemmed from the fact that you’ve always been head over heels for Y/N.” Jay slowly parked the cart and turned off the engine as he explained.

Still not understanding Jay’s point, Heeseung furrowed his brows, shooting his friend another annoyed look before getting out of the golf cart. “What are you trying to get at?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dense. I mean, the last couple of months before Y/N cheated on you was the closest you seemed to have gotten with Karina because of that final project that you guys had or whatever. I mean, you were with her more times than you were with your own girlfriend, and knowing Karina, she seems like she could be delusional enough to have maybe taken that as a sign that you were interested in her? I mean, this is all speculation, but I’m just letting you know what we all saw.”

Jay cautiously treaded this topic. Heeseung was his best friend since they were babies, and he would always be on his side, but Karina was never anyone’s favorite with her extremely polarizing personality. He had no allegiance towards her, not to mention that she wasn’t actually even in their friend group and always only ever found lingering around wherever Heeseung was, so it was much easier for Jay to actually see through her. In fact, it seemed that all of their friends could pretty much catch on to Karina’s end goal except Heeseung.

“So you think it’s my fault that Y/N cheated on me?” The air got tense as Heeseung snapped at Jay while snatching his 7-iron out of the bag. “Just because I spent some time doing a stupid fucking school project with Karina doesn’t mean it gives her reason to go and suck off one of my best friends.”

Jay shook his head even before Heeseung was done with his sentence. Heeseung seemed to not be getting the point. “Fuck no, dude, that’s not what I’m saying. Karina has an incentive: you. If she gets rid of Y/N, then it means you’re up for grabs. Of course, Karina didn’t force Y/N to get on her knees for Sim, but she was the first one to come running, telling us what happened even before Beomgyu sent that video.” Heeseung was trying hard to focus on trying to get his ball on the green as he geared up to swing while listening to Jay.

“So you don’t think she should’ve warned me of what she heard?” He swung precisely, but it seemed that this whole course, to be precise, wasn’t going easy on him. He’d be lucky to get even a double bogey on the par-4.

Jay slightly grimaced at Heeseung’s shot. “No, it’s not that,” he let out a sigh as he walked over to Heeseung. “Look, you’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and I know the past few months have been fucking hard because of what Y/N put you through, and I just want you to be careful. Karina’s always been kind of a conniving, spoiled bitch who finds a way to get what she wants. Just because she’s been warming your bed every night since Y/N fell off the fucking Earth doesn’t mean she should be someone you start trusting.”

There was nothing he could say back to his friend’s words and it seemed that what Jay had said clung on deep to Heeseung's thoughts throughout the day, casting a lingering shadow and leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mind.

[sharkorok]

five more minutes?

or…trying to sneak niki out on a school day

requested: naurrr

cw/genre: fluff, swearing, humor, soft niki, delinquent niki and good kid reader, shouldbegn!reader, lmk if anything else should be tagged!!

a/n: OML I’m so sorry about not posting situationship texts <333 they’re getting a little draining to write it just makes me sad HASHAJSH but I’m so glad u guys lov them so I promise I’ll get to the requests as soon as I can, anyways I hope u enjoy this!!

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

-ok so ur the PERFECT student, polite, good grades, drop dead gorgeous, every teacher’s fave…

-and niki has a great personality ☺️

-you two r polar opposites, you spend your free time studying and socializing while he’s chilling in detention LOLZ, and yet u still ended up dating!! yay!!

-and somehow he managed to convince you to let him stay the night. On a school night. While ur parents were home.

“Niki, it’s four am, you need to get out of my house before both of our parents’ are on our ass,” you groaned. You woke up extra early to ensure you’d have enough time to get him out of your house before your parents awoke to find a 6’ stranger in your bed.

“It’s four am, they won’t be up,” he murmured back, nuzzling his face into the crook of your shoulder, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist.

“We literally have school, cmon,” you nudged, even though you stroked his hair. He laughed softly, his morning voice causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “Niki,” you whined, as he mumbled some nonsense you didn’t understand. “It’s a school day!”

“You can miss a day,” he retorted.

“I’ve had perfect attendance for five months now, I am not skipping,” you scoffed. He squeezed your waist, yawning and seeming completely oblivious to your quiet panicking. What would your parents do if they found Niki like this? What if they broke you two up? What if you were grounded forever and could never see Niki again? Still, you had to admit, the way his hands traced patterns on your back as he softly hummed, his breath on your neck, you might fall asleep right then and there.

“Cmon, five more minutes,” he sighed contentedly.

“Promise?”

“Promise. I’ll even buy you boba after school,” you felt him smile, as you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re such a bad influence. Are you sure you won’t get in trouble?” You asked worriedly.

“Womp womp, doesn’t matter. It’s worth it for you,” you ruffled his hair, huffing in defeat.

“Fine, fine. Five more minutes.”

-you two fell back asleep and nearly got caught by your mom 😪😪

-you saw him in class with a bruise on his arm after he threw himself out ur window

-u got ur boba tho!!

[almond-tofuuu]

Maybe dawnbreak! Zayne eventually finds a way to get to the world he 'dreams' about, and meets the mc. (yandere tho???)

Oooh I love this idea!!!! Thank you anon!!!

Hope you enjoy 💕

The Reaper's Embrace

Dawnbreaker! Zayne x reader

Warnings: slight yandere/possessive elements, possibly ooc Zayne/Dawnbreaker (I tried my best)

lmk if I missed anything ☺️

Something was wrong with Zayne.

When you left work to find him waiting for you outside the building, a strange sense of unfamiliarity washed over you, as though your subconscious was screaming about a danger your brain couldn't register. Which was absurd, right? Zayne wasn't a stranger, far from it.

Maybe it was the clothes he was wearing. The sleek, black suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, and the long, dark coat he wore over the top blended seamlessly into the night. He looked intimidating, almost scary, his imposing form striking an eerie resemblance to that of the grim reaper.

You shake your head in an attempt to clear your mind, "I'm being ridiculous! It's just Zayne, so what if he's dressed a little differently. I must be even more exhausted than I thought" after mentally reprimanding yourself, you make your way over to Zayne, ignoring the unsettling chill running down your spine.

"You must've gotten off work early today if you're here to pick me up! Sorry if I kept you waiting" you greet him warmly, soft smile on your face despite the increasing paranoia building inside your mind.

Zayne doesn't respond, his eyes that are usually filled with a tenderness and warmth now appear cold and lifeless, but there's a hint of something else in his gaze, something almost crazed and predatory. It makes your blood run cold, as if the ice of his evol was flooding your veins. It's as though you're in a trance, your mind is begging you to run, to get away from the man in front of you, but your body won't respond, frozen under the intensity of his gaze.

Zayne takes a careful step towards you, one hand slowly reaching out but stopping just short of touching your cheek. He hesitates, as though he's afraid to actually touch you. And he is. He's afraid that this is just another dream, a cruel trick his mind is playing, and the moment he touches you, you'll disappear, slipping through his fingers like the early morning mist.

Zayne has dreamt of this moment for so long, thoughts of you haunting him, consuming every fibre of his being until the only thing he could think about was you, you, you. For years he had been forced to watch you through the eyes of the doctor, taunted by the other version of himself that got to hold you.

But not anymore. Now that he had finally found his way to you, he wasn't going to let you go. The doctor could never love you the way he did. You were a ray of sunlight that broke through the darkness that shrouded his life. You were his saviour, his guiding light, you were his.

As Zayne's hand hovers inches from your cheek, you feel a shiver run down your spine, a primal instinct urging you to flee. But you're rooted to the spot, unable to tear your gaze away from his intense, icy eyes. With a trembling breath, you brace yourself for his touch, unsure of what to expect.

Finally, his fingertips brush against your skin, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your body. His touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender, but beneath the surface, there's a palpable intensity that sets your nerves on edge. For a moment, the world falls away, and all you can focus on is the sensation of his touch, the way it sends a rush of conflicting emotions swirling through your mind. Fear, desire, uncertainty—they all mingle together in a chaotic symphony that threatens to overwhelm you.

And Zayne feels it too. The warmth of your skin underneath his cold, calloused fingertips is enough to cloud his mind with desire, all thoughts of logic and reason are forgotten as his eyes darken. The tender hold he had on your cheek turns into a bruising grip of your jaw, his other hand encircling your waist, pressing your body tightly against his, strong arm preventing you from escaping. Lowering his face beside your head, 'Zayne' finally speaks, warm breath fanning over your cheek. And although the smooth, deep voice is familiar to you, the darkness of his tone has your body trembling in fear.

"I've waited for this moment for so long. Finally, you're mine. And now that I've got you, I'm never going to let you go."

[puppym3]

hi lovely! i hope you’re doing well <33 could i suggest a seungmin fic that’s kind of like, opposites attract? like seungmin’s this nerdy and shy guy, but in reality (or in bed) he’s not. and y/n’s this outspoken and bold girl but in reality she’s not. sort of like when they get to know each other on an intimate level they realize they’re the exact opposite of how they’ve been portraying themselves to others.

i hope that made sense 😭😭. also u seem really cool feel free to send dms or asks anytime <3

- lovestayblogs ☺️💗

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. unmasked

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

nerdy!seungmin x popular!reader

wc: 9.4k (I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS THAT LONG.)

warnings: MDNI! 18+, CHAT i got carried away, i got too invested in this guys im sorry, smut, fake dating, campus dating, rumors, nerdy!seungmin, popular!reader, alcohol consumption, college parties, a lot of tension, mutual pining, first time, unprotected piv, creampie, handjob, fingering, a lot of dirty talk, dom!seungmin, sub!reader, they're in love its so fluffy, (lmk if i missed any!)

a/n: LOVESTAYBLOGS! i love you, you're so awesome thank you for the suggestion, i loved writing this one so much and i hope you all feel the same!! i just started writing... and writing... and i got here...

anywaysss... i have a taglist if anyone is interested!

enjoy reading! love you guys! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The campus buzzed with life as students shuffled between classes, laughter and chatter filling the air. Amidst the lively chaos, Seungmin was a stark contrast, always found in the same spot in the library, his nose buried in a book. His glasses perched delicately on his nose, eyes scanning the pages with a focused intensity that rarely wavered.

You had noticed him for a while now. He was hard to miss, not because he stood out, but because he blended in so seamlessly that it almost seemed deliberate. He was always alone, a quiet figure in the background, diligently taking notes, rarely interacting with anyone unless necessary. It wasn't just his solitude that caught your attention; it was the way people treated him. Like he wasn't even there. He was just one of those people who never really existed to anyone, no matter how close they seemed.

That was until you saw him sitting at the coffee shop down the street, sipping from a paper cup. The place was packed, but he didn't seem to mind, his focus solely on the book in his hands. You watched him from the corner of your eye as you ordered your drink. Something about him intrigued you. He was so calm and collected, despite the bustle of people surrounding him.

You sat a few tables away from him, unable to take your eyes off of him. His presence was oddly calming. As if he had a strange sort of gravity, pulling you towards him without even trying. You could just approach him, you weren't usually one to be shy when it came to meeting people, so why was it so hard with him?

You must have been staring for too long because when you finally snapped back to reality, you locked eyes with him. He had this curious look on his face, his eyes searching yours for some kind of answer. He seemed almost amused by your sudden embarrassment, a slight smile playing on his lips. You quickly averted your gaze, hoping to avoid any further awkwardness.

To your surprise, he got up and walked over to your table. "Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked, gesturing to the empty seat across from you.

"Not at all," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

He settled into the chair, his gaze returning to his book. You sipped your drink, stealing glances at him.

"Seungmin."

"Huh?"

"My name. It's Seungmin."

You stared at him, dumbfounded. "I knew that," you replied, trying to play it cool.

"You were staring at me, it's only fair you tell me your name," he said, not looking up from his book.

You exchanged your name with him, a flush creeping across your cheeks.

"Why are you here alone? I usually see you with other people." He said with a perplexed look on his face.

You let out a nervous laugh. "Ah, so you've seen me often I assume?"

"You're hard to miss, on this small campus, with your loud friends."

Your heart skipped a beat, a strange sense of validation washing over you.

"Well, we were supposed to meet here, but they all ditched me. So I'm alone, like you."

"I don't mind being alone."

"Oh. Well, neither do I."

There was a brief moment of silence as the two of you sat there, trying to figure out what to say next. You decided to break the tension by asking him a question that had been burning in the back of your mind.

"Do you really hate everyone here, or is that just an act?"

He looked up at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "What makes you think I hate everyone?"

"I don't know, just from whispers..." you trailed off.

"Whispers can be misleading," he said with a smirk. "What about you? Are the rumors about you true?"

"Rumors?" You tilted your head, genuinely confused.

"That you're a bit out there."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his choice of words. "Out there? What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, his expression unreadable.

"If you're talking about me being bold and forward, then yeah, that's just who I am. Nothing more, nothing less."

He nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"It's not like I go around telling people that I'm a virgin," you said, rolling your eyes.

Seungmin nearly spit out his coffee, coughing and clearing his throat.

"What?" you asked, trying to hide your amusement.

"I-it's just that, well, you seem like the type to-" he stuttered, his cheeks flushing a bright shade of red.

"The type to what?" you challenged, leaning forward, your elbows resting on the table.

"You know, someone who has a lot of experience, maybe." He said, looking down at his cup.

You leaned back in your chair, letting out a laugh. "You're cute."

Seungmin's cheeks flushed even more.

"I'll have you know that I'm actually pretty inexperienced."

"Really?" he asked, looking skeptical.

"Yup, and I've never had a real boyfriend either," you admitted, a blush spreading across your own cheeks. "Maybe some fake campus couple rumors, but that's it."

Seungmin nodded slowly, still looking unconvinced.

"You don't believe me, do you?" you asked, crossing your arms.

"It's just hard to imagine that someone like you, well, wouldn't be with anyone."

You sighed, resting your chin on your hand. "Maybe it's because I haven't met the right person, nobody wants the label these days."

Seungmin frowned, nodding in agreement.

"Do you want it? The label, I mean," he asked, meeting your gaze.

You considered his question for a moment before responding.

"I do, I want someone who's not afraid to commit to me."

The two of you locked eyes for a moment. "I... hope you find what you're looking for," Seungmin said softly.

You blushed at his response, unsure of what else to say.

The sound of the coffee shop door opening and closing, made you jump, breaking the moment you two shared.

Then your heart dropped, it was one of your friends, the biggest gossiper on campus.

"Shit," you muttered, hiding your face in your hands.

"What's wrong?" Seungmin asked, looking around in confusion.

You lowered your voice to a whisper, "If she sees us together, she's gonna tell everyone I'm messing with you now. She has the biggest mouth on this campus."

"Well, that doesn't seem too bad. Is it that terrible to have people think we're dating?"

Your head snapped up in shock, taken aback by his reaction. "It is for someone like you... You hate attention and it'll get so much worse if she spreads something."

He shrugged, not seeming to care. "It's fine. If she wants to think that we're dating, then let her. If she thinks we're together, people will stop spreading rumors about you."

Your face turned red, suddenly feeling shy.

"What about you? How will this benefit you?" you asked.

He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Well, maybe it would be nice to have someone who isn't afraid to talk to me."

You let out a small laugh. "Well then, Seungmin, would you like to be my boyfriend?"

His eyes widened, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He stared at you, unsure of how to respond.

"L-Like a fake boyfriend! That's what I meant!" You quickly said, saving yourself.

You felt like you were on the verge of passing out. This wasn't supposed to be a serious thing. You two were just trying to save your reputations. Why did the idea of him being your boyfriend sound so... good?

"You're okay with this, right? If not we can call it off," you asked him, nervousness apparent in your tone.

Seungmin nodded, still looking slightly dazed.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You couldn't believe you were doing this.

"Alright, let's start simple, no big PDA. Just normal stuff," you said, your hands beginning to sweat.

"Right," he replied, looking as nervous as you felt.

You both fell silent, neither of you knowing what to say.

You sighed, taking out your phone and typing a quick message. You took a deep breath before looking at Seungmin. "We should probably get out of here. She's still lurking outside."

Seungmin nodded, following you out of the coffee shop. Once you were a safe distance from the shop, you finally turned to face him, feeling your pulse quicken as you stared into his deep brown eyes.

"I guess I should be going now," he said quietly.

"Yeah," you replied, biting your lower lip.

The two of you stood there for a moment, neither of you making a move to leave.

"Um, I left my number on the receipt."

Seungmin blinked, seeming surprised by your words.

You continued, "I just thought maybe we should have each other's numbers? For convenience."

He nodded slowly, taking out his phone. He typed in your number, your heart pounding in anticipation. You felt like a middle schooler with their first crush, getting nervous over the most mundane things.

"I'll text you so you have mine," he said, looking back at you with a small smile.

You smiled back, your stomach doing flips at his smile.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around." You waved before heading in the opposite direction, walking as fast as your feet could carry you. Your mind racing, replaying everything that happened in your head. You couldn't believe you actually agreed to do this.

Finally, your stalker friend jumped up to you from her hiding spot.

"Heyyyyy!" she said in a high-pitched voice, almost startling you to death. "So I saw you sitting with a boy in the coffee shop, who were you with? You have to tell me!" she pestered, tugging on your sleeve.

"Seungmin," you stated, hoping your voice didn't shake too much. "My...boyfriend," you forced yourself to say it, the word coming out strained.

"What?! Nerd boy?" She yelled in shock, eyes widening. "When did you even start talking to him?"

You shrugged, "Just the other day, he's sweet." You felt a sense of pride as she bought your lie, almost feeling bad that Seungmin had to suffer to save you from being known as some playgirl on campus.

"I didn't know you were into cute shy boys, wow, I never would have expected that from you! It's such a shame, but oh well," she laughed, her face scrunching up as she let out a high-pitched noise that was probably supposed to be a giggle.

She continued to ask you questions about your fake boyfriend and your relationship with him, all while you made up answers on the spot. You were just thankful she hadn't been sitting near the two of you. If she heard anything you had said, you would be fucked.

٠ ࣪⭑

The next day had come too soon, you didn't want to admit it but you were a little excited to play this fake-dating game with Seungmin. It was the most fun you had had on campus so far, and you had only been in his presence for an hour.

You scanned the room as you entered your lecture hall, noticing the usual faces, but there was one person that caught your attention. Seungmin, your boyfriend. The word left a weird taste in your mouth but a pleasant feeling washed over you as you approached his desk.

"Good morning," he greeted you with a small smile, a simple greeting enough to make you blush.

You grabbed his baseball hat and pulled it off, ruffling his fluffy hair out of place. The small giggle you earned made you want to keep messing with him.

"Good morning, sunshine," you said, pulling him into a hug, which was probably overkill, but he was so damn adorable you couldn't resist.

He stiffened, but after a moment, his shoulders relaxed and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body. The scent of his cologne surrounded you, his body warm against yours. You pulled back to look at him, noticing the flush on his cheeks. He had this look on his face that you couldn't quite place, almost like he was in awe.

"Aw shit, so it is true, I just thought she was fucking with me!" You both heard your classmate exclaim from a few desks behind you.

Seungmin pulled away and took a seat next to you. "How was your morning?"

"Boring, without you." You replied without hesitation. You could practically see the blush radiating off of his cheeks, "Cute."

He looked up at you in shock.

"Oh, did you expect me not to call my boyfriend cute?" You chuckled, patting his back.

He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the sound of your professor's voice filling the room. Seungmin quickly turned to face forward, but you noticed a smile forming on his lips. You could barely pay attention during class, your thoughts consumed by him. What were you doing to this boy, he barely even knew you but you had his mind in a state of chaos, what a mess this is going to be.

After class, you noticed a bunch of people were staring at you two, whispering about your supposed relationship. It seemed the word had gotten out faster than you thought. Seungmin gave you a reassuring smile, squeezing your hand to calm you. The two of you walked out of class hand in hand, like a real couple, but of course it was fake.

You headed for your next class, but not before he told you he had a project he needed to work on so the two of you went your separate ways, parting with a wave. You found your mind drifting back to the warmth of his hand. The softness of his touch and his gentle squeeze reassured you. How was it that he already knew you so well after only two days of knowing each other?

By the time you made it back to your dorm, you had convinced yourself you were going insane. What were you thinking, getting caught up in the fantasy of Seungmin being yours? You threw your bag on your desk, collapsed onto your bed, and let out a loud sigh. Your thoughts drifted to your next meeting with him. When would be too early to text him? You had already exchanged numbers, so why not make good use of them? You took out your phone and stared at your conversation with Seungmin, reading through the last messages. You smiled to yourself and sent him a quick hello, trying your hardest not to seem desperate. You threw your phone across the room onto your bed and got ready to go out with your friends.

After showering and getting ready, you sat down and checked your phone, smiling to yourself at his reply.

"Hey, you busy?" he texted you back.

You replied, "for you, i'm free" it was so cringeworthy you regretted sending it but you couldn't take it back.

You saw the typing bubble appear and then disappear several times before he responded, "I heard you're going to a party? I was invited by your friend because she thought I'd want to go with you."

Your stomach churned, this was going too fast for your liking. "do you wanna come with me?" you texted him, nervousness settling in.

"I'll come to make sure you're safe and you don't drink too much." he texted back. You almost laughed out loud at how cute his text read.

"don't you trust me?" you replied.

"Not when it comes to partying." he answered, and you could imagine him smiling.

"I'll come pick you up." He double texted, making your heart swell in your chest. You were getting a little too attached, but how could you not when he was the first man in a while to pay you this kind of attention.

"okay, i'm waiting for you"

You felt your face grow hotter the moment you pressed send. 'What the fuck are you doing to me, Seungmin,' you thought to yourself as you readied yourself to pick him up from his place.

You went into your closet, pulling out a few outfits. You couldn't believe you were going all out for him, it felt weird, you wanted to look pretty but not for yourself, not anymore, now it was for him. You didn't know why you felt like this, you weren't supposed to have any real feelings for him. But maybe you did. You looked through your wardrobe for the longest time before finally settling on the perfect outfit. You dressed yourself and checked your reflection in the mirror, satisfied with what you saw.

As you were grabbing your purse, you heard your phone beep with an incoming message, signaling that he was waiting outside for you.

You were filled with nervousness and anticipation.

When you saw Seungmin waiting in his car, your heart nearly stopped. You opened the car door and got in. His face immediately flushed, his eyes flickering up and down your body with widened eyes.

"Is this okay?" you asked, gesturing at your outfit.

Seungmin cleared his throat and nodded.

You laughed nervously and looked out the window, trying not to stare at him.

He pulled away from the curb, his eyes focused on the road in front of him.

He began to speak, "You look good," he said softly, but you heard every word, and you couldn't help but blush.

The car ride to the party was quiet. Neither of you said anything as the music from the car radio played. The atmosphere felt tense. It felt like you both had something you wanted to say but neither of you would. It made your stomach twist into knots.

Eventually, he pulled up to your friend's house, parked in front of her house and got out, opening your door for you. You smiled to yourself and grabbed his hand, feeling like it was the most natural thing for you two to do.

When you stepped onto her front lawn, the music blaring from the inside of the house seemed deafening. You could feel the bass vibrating in your bones.

You saw some of your classmates standing on the front porch, and Seungmin instinctively wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. You leaned into him, feeling yourself relax. You loved his smell. The mixture of his cologne, mixed with his own scent was intoxicating. It made your head spin and your stomach flip.

He led you inside and you immediately regretted your decision to come. It was much too crowded, people were packed in like sardines and you were suddenly glad that Seungmin had shown up, or else you probably wouldn't have stayed for too long. He guided you over to one of the corners, away from everyone else, but there was still so many people in the house that it didn't seem to matter. He led you upstairs where the music was less loud and people weren't dancing and grinding all over each other. You walked through a bedroom and into an open balcony overlooking the backyard. There weren't that many people, only a handful of people chatting. It seemed like everyone was downstairs.

You smiled and leaned against him. "Thanks for coming with me," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Of course," he replied softly.

You couldn't help but lean your head against his chest and close your eyes for a moment, savoring his warmth and smell. He smelled kind of like laundry detergent and soap.

You looked up at him, and he was already looking down at you.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked.

You nodded. "Just a little bit of anxiety is all."

"I thought this was your kind of setting?" He said, lightly swaying side to side with you to the slow music.

"Not at all, it's overwhelming." you replied, trying to make out his face in the dim light.

He nodded understandingly. "I get that."

"Well, since we're here," he continued.

Seungmin gently put his hands on your hips, and you felt your body freeze.

He continued, "If we're going to pretend we're in love, we should make it believable, right?"

You blushed at his words. You didn't think you could ever get used to this boy making your heart race with every single action.

You hesitantly returned the gesture, putting your hands on either shoulder of his and letting your fingertips dance lightly along his neck. The two of you were in a moment, the noise of the party below became faint and all you could see was his face. His gaze was fixed on you, the heat of his hands was so intense. You didn't care about the whispers or the eyes on you anymore.

"This okay?" He asked, voice soft and full of concern, almost a whisper.

You nodded.

"If it gets too much for you just let me know and I'll take us somewhere quiet, alright?" He spoke into your hair, his hands gently gripping your sides.

"Thank you," you mumbled into his shirt. "I feel so much more at ease with you."

His breath caught at your words.

The two of you swayed back and forth for what seemed like hours. You felt completely comfortable in his arms. His hands rested comfortably on your waist, his thumbs brushing against your exposed skin. You usually had to get drunk to tolerate these types of parties, but here, you were completely sober.

You couldn't believe the boy in front of you was real. You thought this stuff only happened in cheesy dramas. You leaned back to look at his face again, and found his gaze already on you. Your face grew red at how he stared at you, as if you were the only person in the world. You reached up and ran your thumb along the line of his jaw, your skin burning with each inch. His face grew warm under your touch, and he leaned down, closing his eyes, resting his forehead against yours. He gently rubbed his nose against yours, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

He opened his eyes again, and you could see his pupils dilate in the dark room, the soft glow of the lights outside illuminating his face. Your eyes locked with his and the two of you stopped swaying to the music. The music suddenly got louder as the two of you stood frozen. His eyes traveled from your lips to your eyes, and you saw that he was looking at your face as well.

"Seungmin..." you said softly, not even knowing how you would complete your sentence.

He closed his eyes again and tilted his head slightly to the left. You felt the tip of his nose brush against yours and the side of his cheek press against your cheek, making your entire body shiver.

Wasn't this all just for the rumors? Why did you want this so much? Why did your entire body yearn for him so desperately?

You leaned up, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. The moment your lips touched his skin, his body stiffened as if he wasn't expecting it. He turned his head so that his cheek was pressing into your lips and your eyes widened. He was giving you permission to do this, and he wanted to be sure you understood his permission. He wasn't expecting it, but he also didn't pull away.

Your heart raced faster, you leaned in to press another soft kiss to his plump cheek. This time his hand slipped around the small of your back to hold you closer and his eyes fluttered open to gaze deeply into your own.

His breath ghosted your skin and your lips parted slightly as you gazed up at him, eyes full of anticipation. His hand slipped into your hair, tangling his fingers in your soft locks. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, allowing yourself to savor his scent and the warmth of his body. This wasn't fake anymore, this was too real.

Suddenly, you were snapped out of your trance, your friend's voice piercing your ear.

"There you lovebirds are," she yelled from the other side of the balcony. "Everyone was wondering where you were!"

You pulled away, Seungmin's arms still wrapped around you tightly. "I was just getting a breather." You smiled.

"Yeah? A breather in his mouth? I saw you two smashing your faces together just now. Don't be a prude!" your friend laughed and pulled you by the hand towards the door, Seungmin trailing closely behind.

As your friend pulled you into the crowded house, she turned around.

"And I told everyone that you guys were coming downstairs to play drinking games with us." She smirked, her words slurring slightly. She was already drunk.

You groaned in frustration and shot a look over your shoulder at Seungmin. He smiled sympathetically and you rolled your eyes as you walked down the stairs into the crowd. The music was deafening. People were dancing everywhere.

Seungmin took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, leading you toward your drunk friend and the rest of your 'friends'. You spotted some of the boys you had a class with sitting around the table. Your drunk friend had set out bottles of liquor on the coffee table and you assumed everyone else would be drinking just as much as her.

As soon as you took a seat on the floor with Seungmin and a couple of other girls you barely knew, the first question was shot your way.

"So how did it happen?" A girl asked as she sipped her drink, eyes fixed on yours.

"How did what happen?" You asked, looking over at Seungmin, who shrugged.

"Your relationship." She answered. "You guys are cute." She added.

Seungmin's hand was intertwined with yours, giving you a light squeeze.

The rest of your 'friends' chimed in with their questions as well.

"So you two are like a real couple? Since when? Are you going out?"

"Can we play games now?" Seungmin said, giving me another reassuring squeeze.

Your friend poured the liquor into plastic shot glasses and passed them out around the circle. She turned on some music and told us we should all take turns playing the games. The first round was Truth or Dare. You watched your drunk friends giggle as they each picked on each other.

One of them had just dared someone to drink an entire bottle of vodka in a single minute. The guy, of course, obliged.

Everyone else was laughing hysterically at the poor kid who was struggling to keep down all that liquid. You were starting to regret your choice in friends, these people were immature, especially in their drunk state.

When it was your turn to answer truth or dare, your drunk friend gave you a sly look before asking,

"Truth or Dare?" she slurred out, the alcohol already taking her.

You knew you couldn't tell them you were lying about having a relationship. Seungmin knew that too and gave you another reassuring squeeze, bringing you out of your trance.

You picked dare and everyone started hollering at you.

She said "I dare you to kiss the hottest person here."

You looked around at your 'friends'.

Your friend leaned back in her seat, looking around as well, her eyes lingering on Seungmin.

"It's a shame," she said as she looked him up and down. "I'd definitely hit it."

Your entire body stiffened as the girl in front of you looked up at you, then looked over at Seungmin, then back to you. She took a step towards Seungmin, raising an eyebrow as she waited for you to answer.

You gave her a blank look as your hand reached up and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him into you. His lips parted, allowing yours to brush over them lightly before you pressed your lips gently against him. He froze.

Your friend's voice was muffled behind you as she giggled.

His mouth was hot and tasted slightly of minty toothpaste. You didn't notice his hand resting on your thigh, gently rubbing it, trying to calm you down.

You broke apart, you felt like your heart was about to burst, if it was all for the act, why was your face flushing so much? You glanced over at your drunk friend and saw she was staring at the two of you with wide eyes and her jaw open in shock.

Seungmin wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side and holding you tight, trying to comfort you.

"Wow," the girl said in disbelief, "I guess I'll just take another shot, then." She said and quickly poured herself another shot, downing it quickly before standing up.

"Alright," she slurred, "My turn now." She announced to the group of drunken party goers. "Seungmin, Truth or dare?"

You turned to look at him and he was still holding you tight.

You spoke quietly so only he could hear, "Please choose truth, I can't take it anymore."

He turned his head slightly, giving you a look before answering,

"Truth."

"Okay, well then." Your drunk friend looked around the room as she searched her mind for a question. "If you could only have sex with one of the people here, who would you choose?"

"My girlfriend." He answered instantly, giving her a look as if she was dumb for asking.

Everyone in the group giggled except you and him. He was just playing the game like they all were, but you were both not playing. The way he was holding you made it clear to everyone that he wasn't going to say anyone but you.

"Alright then," she said as she stood up. "You can't do Truth or Dare without shots, so here you go," She said as she handed each of you a shot of vodka. "Now get to it," She slurred.

Seungmin wasn't letting you drink though, so he downed both of your shots at once.

How could he take drinks so well? You've never seen him at a party before.

When you arrived at your friend's house, Seungmin had said that he would make sure he would get you home safe and sober. But seeing him take your shot for you, "You don't have to drink so much, Seungmin, I'm fine," You whispered to him.

He looked at you with a worried expression. "You've been looking down for awhile now," He whispered back, his eyes searching yours. "You're not feeling okay are you?"

"Just a little headache, that's all," You tried to assure him.

His eyebrows knitted together, he then stood up and laced his hand with yours, leading you back outside to the balcony where no one was around. The cool breeze blew and he walked up behind you, and you immediately felt better when all of the noise was muffled.

He stood close behind you, leaning his head down and whispering into your ear, "Do you want me to take you home?"

His hot breath on your skin made your eyes flutter and your heart rate pick up. Go home with him? Is that what he meant? Or were you picking up the vibes wrong?

He didn't even know what was wrong with you and you weren't going to tell him, either. You weren't drunk, so there was no way to explain away what you were feeling. Your entire body was warm, and not from the alcohol.

The boy standing behind you was sending goosebumps over every inch of your skin, making your knees weak, your head foggy. You weren't sure how much longer you could control yourself, and it didn't help that you and Seungmin were touchy the entire day. You thought your hormones would die down at least a little, but they haven't. If anything, your hormones only intensified.

Seungmin turned you around so you were facing him, placing both of his hands on either of your shoulders.

"Hey, you okay?" he said, eyes full of concern.

"Yeah, yeah." You answered, shaking your head to try to clear the thoughts of his hands all over your body, touching you in places that made your head spin, but it was to no avail.

"I think we should go," He said as he took a step back, hands falling from your shoulders.

You immediately felt empty without him touching you.

He walked towards the door and turned around to wait for you to follow. He didn't ask any questions or demand to know what was going on with you, but he looked like he was dying to know. You turned around, not wanting to tell him the truth. You followed him back downstairs and said a quick goodbye to your drunk friends. Seungmin opened the car door for you, even buckling you in.

You didn't even drink, why was he acting like this?

The two of you drove in silence until he pulled up outside your house. You thanked him and unbuckled your seatbelt, but Seungmin held on to your hand as you opened the door, not letting you leave just yet. You looked at him quizzically, wondering why he wouldn't just let go.

"What's going on?" He asked softly, looking you directly in the eye, not letting his gaze drift.

You tried to avert his eyes, not wanting to let him know how badly you were craving everything about him. You bit down on your bottom lip and shook your head, looking away from him, trying to think of a good lie. You didn't have an excuse ready for why you wanted him. You had no excuse as to why your body was betraying you so much. You didn't want to let on that you wanted more, more than this friendship, more than these fake dates, more than you could ever have. You just wanted to have a moment, just one.

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry as you finally looked back into his eyes, knowing it was too late to turn back now.

"Seungmin, I..." You started but your voice caught in your throat.

"Just tell me what you're thinking." He said, voice low as he squeezed your hand.

He had a way with words that always made you weak, and you knew he knew this, too.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, feeling your cheeks start to warm from his gaze.

You decided to let go. To give up control of the situation. To give up control of the emotions that were driving you crazy, and let them take over your actions instead.

"You wanna know what I'm thinking?" You asked softly, not waiting for a response, just watching him as he continued to watch you, not speaking. You reached out and put a hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly before continuing, "I want to know how your mouth tastes. I want to know what your skin feels like against mine, how you sound when I touch you in just the right places." You let go of his hand and leaned towards him, placing a hand on the side of his neck, the tips of your fingers touching his nape, thumb resting against his chin, "I want to feel your fingers wrapped up in my hair." You let out a breathy sigh before continuing.

Your fingers grazed against his neck, moving to cup his jaw, running a thumb along his lower lip, "And your lips," you said softly, letting out another soft sigh. "I want to taste every inch of your skin," you said, feeling yourself growing warmer with each word that came out of your mouth, feeling your arousal start to take over.

Your body moved closer to him, your eyes locked with his. "And I want you to do the same," You whispered. He blinked at you, looking down at you. You took in a sharp breath before you continued, your hand still cupping his face, "I want you to touch me like no one has before."

He was staring at you in shock now. Your voice was barely above a whisper but he was able to hear every single word that left your lips. His jaw dropped slightly as he tried to process the information, and it took you a few seconds before you realized what you'd said to him. You slowly withdrew your hand, a deep blush covering your cheeks, spreading to your neck and shoulders.

"I- I'm sorry, I was just teasing..." You started, feeling your body tensing up and your heartbeat picking up, feeling like it might burst through your chest.

"No." He whispered, cutting you off mid-sentence. He grabbed your hand and placed it back on his jaw, looking down at you with dark eyes. "What did you mean?" He asked firmly, eyes never leaving yours.

Your cheeks burned from embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Seungmin." You mumbled, "C..Can we continue this conversation inside?" You asked quietly, not wanting to get caught in such an awkward position by any dormmates who might be lurking nearby.

Seungmin immediately turned off his car, opened his car door, and stepped out, opening your car door and unbuckling your seatbelt for you as well.

"Take me inside, then." He whispered. You took his hand, stepping out of the car and led him. You led him upstairs, the two of you climbing the steps and walking down the hall in silence, his hand gripping yours tightly, his skin burning hot against yours. Your heart was racing.

You pushed the door open, revealing your room. It was fairly clean, save for some laundry here and there. You looked over at Seungmin nervously before making your way towards the bed and patting the spot next to you. You looked up at him as he walked over and took a seat next to you.

"So, about earlier," he said softly, eyes never leaving yours, "You said you want me to touch you..." his voice trailed off, eyes searching yours before continuing, "What did you mean?"

His hand found its way back on your thigh, slowly stroking it and making you bite down hard on your bottom lip. You didn't think he would react so strongly, but it's exactly what you needed.

"Did you mean like this?" He asked, leaning down, lips hovering right over your neck as his hand slowly stroked your leg, moving from the top to bottom. "Or maybe like this?" he continued as he began to plant gentle kisses along your jaw and down to your collarbone. Your skin was burning everywhere his lips touched. His breath was hot on your neck, and you were starting to feel your arousal grow again, the heat between your legs only intensifying with each passing second.

"Mmmh," You moaned, unable to control your voice, the noise sounding foreign even to yourself. You had no control of your body as you arched into his touch. You couldn't tell him how badly you wanted him to fuck you until you saw stars, how badly you needed to feel his bare skin pressed up against yours. But the words were stuck in your throat as he continued to kiss and touch you, the heat building inside of you, driving you wild.

"Why? Tell me why you need me to touch you so badly." he asked, his lips hovering right above yours now, his eyes searching your face, his hands roaming across your skin, touching every inch of exposed flesh he could find, making goosebumps form on your arms and legs. He leaned down, his lips inches away from yours, waiting.

You didn't think your arousal could intensify even further, but it did.

You didn't know you were capable of making noises like those that were coming out of you. Your body felt hot and heavy. Your fingers found his shirt, and you grabbed onto it, trying to steady yourself. Your head was spinning. He pulled back just a fraction, looking into your eyes with lust and concern, making your head swim even more.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. Your hands immediately found their way to the back of his head, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pulling him in for a deeper kiss, letting his lips part yours and his tongue invade your mouth, letting him kiss you how he wanted to.

His hands found their way under your shirt and he slid them up and over your torso, cupping your breasts as his tongue explored your mouth, taking his sweet time tasting every inch of you. Your body arched against him, feeling him pressed against you.

You broke apart only for air. His breathing was ragged and uneven, just as yours was. His eyes were hooded and he was looking down at you. His lips were red and swollen from your intense kiss, his fingers trailing along your jaw. You pulled away, unable to take his teasing touches any longer. You looked up into his eyes with a pained look. You couldn't take it any more, the throbbing between your thighs was almost too much.

"Well? Tell me." he whispered.

"Seungmin, I can't take this anymore." You mumbled.

He looked down at you in shock, but you didn't meet his eyes, not wanting to see what kind of face he was making.

"What do you mean?" He asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"I can't take it anymore, It's driving me crazy. I like you so much, I like your touch so much, please just do something," you whispered, still avoiding his eyes.

Seungmin grabbed your hands, pulling them off of him and forcing you to look up at him.

"Look at me," he said sternly, making your eyes flutter as you looked into his eyes. "Say that again."

"I like you, Seungmin." You breathed.

He didn't speak.

He didn't let you go, and you didn't make a move to get up, either. You both stayed frozen in place. You weren't sure if the confession made him uncomfortable or if it excited him.

You finally felt Seungmin move and your eyes locked with his again.

"Why did you have to say that, hmm? Do you know how long I've liked you for? And you choose to say it now?" He said softly, eyes filled with an unexplainable emotion as he continued to look down at you, his grip tightening slightly as he spoke. "How am I supposed to respond to something like that?"

His voice was low and soft, his eyes searching yours with concern, making your heart jump at how serious his expression was.

"Just fuck me," you mumbled, unable to control the words spilling out of you.

He looked down at you for a second, processing your words, his eyebrows drawing together. He sighed as he stood up and started taking off his jacket, throwing it on the floor. He slowly took his shirt off as well, his muscles rippling underneath the material.

He took a few steps towards you, grabbing your waist and lifting you up effortlessly as if you weighed nothing to him. You were thrown onto his bed, him following suit, climbing on top of you and looking down at you hungrily.

His hands worked to remove the remaining items of clothing on your body as well, making sure to touch every inch of your skin, slowly. You looked into his eyes the entire time he was undressing you, trying to memorize his expressions. He pulled away for a moment as he finished pulling the last article of clothing from you, leaving you bare in front of him. His eyes raked your body, taking you in for what was the first time, his eyes hungry and wanting. He slowly reached for his belt buckle, unbuckling it, unzipping his pants, pulling his pants off his waist leaving him in just his boxers.

You reached down to stroke his hardened member through the material, eliciting a moan from him. He placed his hands on either side of your head, holding himself above you, hovering just a few inches away. He bent down, pressing a gentle kiss on your neck, letting his lips brush against the sensitive flesh before placing another kiss. He moved slowly, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses as he traveled lower and lower, until his face was level with your breasts. He gently kissed the tip of one before taking your nipple between his lips, sucking softly and swirling his tongue around your hardened bud.

Your head arched back, eyes shut tight.

He pulled back for a moment, his hand finding your face. He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, pulling it back up. "Keep your eyes on me." He breathed.

His other hand slid down to your lower stomach and rested between your thighs. He slowly dragged the tips of his fingers up and down the length of your pussy, his fingers gently parting your folds. You moaned, his fingers lightly brushing over your clit before moving to tease your entrance, your back arching in anticipation.

He finally sank one finger into you, then two, his fingers curling inside you as he pushed them in deeper. He leaned in again, his lips grazing your nipple as his fingers slid in and out of your wet pussy, your body writhing in pleasure beneath him. Your hands moved to grab his hair, gripping it tightly. You closed your eyes and threw your head back again, moaning his name as his tongue lapped at your hardened nubs. His fingers worked themselves in and out of you, curling upwards as they left your pussy, brushing against your clit with every movement. You felt like you could come just like that. He looked up at you as his lips grazed your breast again. "Do you like this?" he breathed. "Tell me how much you love it."

Your breath was ragged as you moaned.

"I...love it so much... please..." You whined, your back arching.

Your fingers pulled at his hair.

Seungmin groaned, pulling away and taking off his boxers. "Do you like seeing how hard I am for you?" he breathed. "Does seeing how much you turn me on get you going?" He took your hands in his, and pulled them down towards his throbbing erection. He helped you wrap your fingers around it, giving your hands a gentle squeeze, encouraging you to stroke it. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours as your hand began to slide along the length of his cock, moving up and down with your strokes.

"Keep going. That's a good girl." He moaned, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck and pulling you in for a passionate kiss as you continued to pump him in your hand. Your eyes locked with his. You felt his lips part yours, his tongue invading your mouth.

Your head swam with excitement. Your hand continued to stroke him in a steady rhythm. He pulled back and looked down at you.

"Fuck me, Seungmin. Please, fuck me."

He reached for your hands and removed them from him. He slid off the bed and stood at the edge of it, grabbing your legs and pulling you closer to him. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You moaned softly as his lips moved from your mouth down to your neck. He pressed open mouthed kisses along your neck and down to your chest, his mouth closing around a hardened nipple.

He moaned your name softly. "You're so sexy when you beg. I want to hear you scream my name, do you want that, baby?" He breathed. He leaned down and gently kissed your collarbone.

You couldn't hold back your moans as you felt his hands caressing your body, exploring your skin as they wandered along your legs.

His eyes locked with yours. You watched him, transfixed by the way he moved, by how gentle he was. "Fuck me." You moaned. "Please, please..." you whined, begging. You reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another heated kiss, your tongues colliding.

You moaned his name softly into the kiss. He reached between your legs, running his fingers up your wet folds, rubbing your clit as he stroked himself, making you shudder at the feeling. He positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, gently sliding his cock against your slit.

You gasped at the sudden sensation of him pushing himself inside you, the feeling making your toes curl as you grabbed at the sheets, your body writhing beneath him. Your eyes met his again as he began to thrust slowly, his thrusts gentle and languid as he eased himself inside of you, stretching your pussy, your walls hugging his length as he slowly worked his way deeper. He grabbed your hand and placed it over your head.

You moaned softly as he thrust inside of you, his eyes locked with yours. "How do I feel inside you?" He groaned, his hips stilling.

"So big... you fill me so well. Please don't stop. Please," You whined.

His hand reached for yours, pulling it away from his head. He slid your hand between you, letting your fingers brush against his chest as you continued to fuck yourself with him.

"Do you like this, baby?" He asked as your fingers found his abs and slid across them. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing your tits and pulling at your nipples.

Your head arched back.

"Yes... Yes... so good..." you moaned as his hips rolled against your body. His hands moved from your breasts, down your stomach to your clit. He rubbed small circles over it as he thrust slowly inside you, your body shivering at his touch.

He kept thrusting slowly as your eyes met. His hand found your hair, running his fingers through it. He gently grabbed it, tugging your head to the side, exposing your neck to his lips.

You moaned. "I'm close, please don't stop..." you moaned, your voice breaking slightly. You could feel the familiar build-up starting, your muscles tightening.

He bit down hard on your neck before pulling out of you. He didn't stop moving. He continued to push inside you as your walls began to clench around his cock. You let out a cry as the pressure built. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive flesh before leaning over and nuzzling his face into your neck.

"Come for me. Let me hear your beautiful voice when you come for me." He whispered in your ear, his voice strained with need, his breath hot on your skin. You cried out his name as you reached your peak, your entire body tensing.

He bit down hard on your neck as his body tensed against you, his cock twitching deep inside your pussy as you felt him cum in you. He thrust deep inside of you, you both riding out each other's orgasms.

His body stilled above you, and he kissed your lips gently before rolling onto his side and pulling you against him, letting your head rest on his chest as he ran his hand up and down your back. Your breathing was ragged as you laid there. Your body was sore, and you were sure he'd bruised you, but it felt good, really good. You didn't know you were capable of letting yourself feel like this. You felt Seungmin kiss your head, his lips gently moving across your skin. He let out a contented sigh as he held you close to him.

"You okay?" He asked, his voice quiet. "Sorry, I got carried away."

He said, his shy demeanor all of a sudden coming back. The whiplash scared you. You leaned away, looking him in the eyes.

"No, don't apologize. It was good, really good." you breathed. "Thank you." you smiled shyly.

He kissed your lips gently and pulled away.

"But, I kind of... feel you dripping out of me right now." You said, a blush on your face as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"Shit- I'm... I'm so sorry..." he mumbled. He slid off the bed, pulling his pants on and throwing you your shirt before walking towards the bathroom.

You couldn't help but giggle at the situation you both were in, "It's okay, it was amazing."

"I'm still cleaning you up," Seungmin mumbled.

He disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later he walked out, carrying a wet washcloth and some tissues.

You quickly pulled the shirt on, and then let him clean you up with the washcloth before he took the used tissues and threw them in the trash. He walked back over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers gently running up your thigh.

"Are you okay?" He asked, concern written on his face.

"I'm okay," You assured him, nodding slightly. You pulled him in for a quick kiss and leaned back against the pillow again. "Just a bit tired," you admitted.

Seungmin climbed on the bed with you and laid down, pulling you to him so that your head was resting on his chest. "Get some rest, let's talk tomorrow."

"Thank you," You whispered softly, pressing another kiss to his chest.

You felt your body relax, the fatigue hitting you as your eyelids began to grow heavy. You nuzzled closer to Seungmin, wrapping your arm around his waist and holding him close, the heat of his body against your own warming your skin. He let his fingers run through your hair, massaging your scalp. The two of you stayed silent for a while, both lost in thought as your mind wandered, and you felt your body relax as your thoughts slowly drifted off, and you fell asleep.

٠ ࣪⭑

Your eyes slowly opened, squinting slightly as the sunlight peeked through the window and onto your face, blinding you for a moment before your eyes adjusted. You looked down to see that your head was resting on Seungmin's chest, your arms wrapped around his waist and his hand running through your hair. You took in a deep breath, letting the sweet smell of his cologne wash over you. It smelled wonderful.

You glanced up to see that he was staring at you, his eyes searching your face for signs of discomfort. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" He whispered softly. You smiled slightly as he stroked your cheek and nodded slightly.

"I'm fine," you said. "Just a bit sore."

"I made you breakfast while you were sleeping." He smiled, his eyes twinkling. He moved his hand from your cheek and gestured towards the food he had made for you.

You glanced up at him and smiled, a warm feeling spreading across your chest. He smiled back, and you couldn't help but reach out to kiss him. He pulled back from the kiss, his eyes still searching yours.

"Wait, so did we actually officially get together last night, or was that also just a part of the act?" He asked, genuine concern on his face.

You blushed as the events of last night came flooding back to you, causing a slight blush to creep across your cheeks. He was so cute you couldn't help but laugh.

"I like you, Seungmin." You breathed.

You could see a faint blush rising up on his cheeks as he looked at you, his eyes widening slightly before a shy smile crossed his lips.

"So that's a yes then?" He asked, smiling down at you, his eyes searching your face. You smiled at him, leaning forward and kissing his cheek, making him blush even more.

He glanced away from you, his smile widening slightly. "I like you too. I want you to be mine, my real girlfriend," he mumbled shyly.

The sound of his words sent a shiver through you as you realized this was all real and not just some dream.

His eyes widened as he looked at you, and you could feel yourself blush. You looked away from him, your cheeks heating up as you felt a slight smile forming on your lips.

"Okay, boyfriend, I accept your offer."

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

taglist for my beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

[reidreaders]

Your Insta If You Were Dating Spencer Reid Pt. 3

A/N: Requested by @its-jennarose thank u for giving me an excuse to make more lol <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Liked by babygirlpg, davidrossi, and 136 others

y/n I ❤️ being a passenger princess

View all 17 comments

drreid I ❤️ driving you around!

-> emprentiss you hate driving simp

babygirlpg best BAU coupleeeee

chocthunder he knows how to drive???

-> y/n he literally knows everything

Liked by ssahotchner, emprentiss, and 167 others

y/n can y'all believe this is what I sleep next to every night

View all 23 comments

drreid Why do you have to keep posting pictures of me in bed?

-> y/n ur so cute when ur sleepy 🥰

chocthunder oh Jesus christ

-> emprentiss I second that

babygirlpg you guys need to be nicer in these comments he's cute and you know it

-> drreid Thanks, Penelope. ☺️

Liked by jenniferj, chocthunder, and 179 others

y/n spent our day off having a picnic in the park

View all 20 comments

drreid I had the best day with you.

-> y/n me too spence 😘😘

jenniferj such a cute date idea!

davidrossi Have fun kids!

ssahotchner Glad you were able to enjoy the time off.

Liked by drreid, babygirlpg, and 195 others

y/n coffee date before work!

View all 18 comments

drreid My two favorite things!

emprentiss kind of rude you didn't bring coffee for the rest of us but ok

-> jenniferj so true

-> davidrossi so true

-> y/n Rossi???

-> davidrossi I hate the coffee here okay

Liked by davidrossi, emprentiss, and 147 others

y/n halloween came early!

View all 26 comments

drreid The ren faire was so much fun! Thank you for coming with me.

-> y/n anything for you...

ssahotchner Looks like fun! Jack said he wants to join you next time.

-> drreid He's more than welcome to!

babygirlpg I think true love might be going to a ren faire just bc your bf wants to

-> jenniferj I think you might be right

-> emprentiss well if that's the case, I hope I never find true love

Hope you guys enjoyed this one! My requests are open so lmk what else you wanna see :)

MASTERLIST